in the hard
fields and watch
a hill like a wave,
sweeping toward me,
chalk crumbled crest
of the rolling
I can stare
until it topples me;
It is just
a matter of
Filed under writing
Tagged as England, geology, indigo Sea Press, Juliet Waldron, poetry, time, Wiltshire
Eventually it will crumble as well. I like the poem.
My kind of poem — short, beautiful, and philosophic.
This is beautiful, Juliet.
Makes me think of Sutton Hoo
I love it!
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