Poetry Blogs (ebb)
In the sun's mid-day heat
I see the tall field grasses flow, swell
and come towards me in waves
surging before the day's wind
the seed-head spume constantly bowing
seems to fall on the field strand where I stand.
The rhythmic onslaught of the waves
continues through the long afternoon -
a tide of wind-driven swells and rollers
always flowing to my feet, w...
Thursday 21st February 2019 12:34 pm