Poetry Blog by David Blake
The bucket of water distorts
the image of the sky when kicked
a mirror stretching into infinite ovals.
In this I am a golden leaf
and the light stretches through me
a ragged parchment in candle-light.
Where the green shadows
intersect with the love we live
I can see a buried garden-
a lazy, hothouse dream
of terracotta and porcelain
and thieves in the night
that went to sleep u...
Friday 24th May 2019 12:23 am