swallows (Remove filter)
End of Summer
It’s said that one alone don’t make a Summer
but when there’s none at all, is that when Summer’s gone?
And when there’s nothing up there but a shimmer
of dust from the desert superheated by the sun;
and when the sheds and barns remain in silence
from April to October; when radiance that shone
on midge-full fields no longer flicks on mindless
scything wings and sideslippings ...
Saturday 15th June 2024 9:26 am
De Jeune
Sometimes, inspiration and imagination have strange effects.
De Jeune
Swallows dive, swoon
like wind-swayed ink drops
down, and beyond the light:
swallowed by the sky,
flown blue, over
road-birds – honed
by simple flight.
Like arrows in Canada
in thunderhead afternoons:
clouds rolling, rutting hinds
in migration, pounding sand-trails,
...Monday 27th November 2017 9:56 am
Recent Comments
Larisa Rzhepishevska on I Know Those Who Hate The War
4 hours ago
Russell Jacklin on Death of Fanny Adams
6 hours ago
LEON STOLGARD on An act of kindness leads to a divine reward
13 hours ago
LEON STOLGARD on Le Chat noir
13 hours ago
raypool on Death of Fanny Adams
15 hours ago
raypool on celestial school of verse
15 hours ago
Stephen Gospage on An act of kindness leads to a divine reward
16 hours ago
Stephen Gospage on June 2025
16 hours ago
Tom Doolan on Here Today Gone Tomorrow
18 hours ago
Red Brick Keshner on celestial school of verse
23 hours ago