Thursday, March 2, 2017

AN ECHO


What nought
I gain
Pumping bristles in a hay

Miles of moorland
Growing
Uncultivated land

Body fray
Loose threads
Wrinkled by an age

What astrolabe
Gain
In celestial nought

Miles of darkness
Deeper
Than the black hole

Thought rumble
Denting spaces
By an echo

No comments: