The bird stirred
And the apple dropped
Like an idea
Squirrel scurried
And pinecone popped
Underfoot
The fine roam
Of the cloud
Streaked by sun
And the tea
In the giant kettle
Flung flavours
Into
Mouths
Smoke rose from
Chimneys
Like shifts
For
Bare geese
The Giant Kettle
Published inUncategorized
Be First to Comment