UK POETRY LIVE
  Dark Firmament by Annie Hayter
 
 



Dark Firmament

 

        
moth drunk
I wander
empty as a well
the path of whispers
following me as I walk
the crops, god-gilded,
brush me, like tree feathers or tongues
here I enter the church of struck leaves;
a forest of crosses
mile upon mile of still wonder and
rising shade.         
my hands are shaking;
at the mullion of lead-land against sky
they are sorry epitaphs
of the person I have become.
I knock the rough bark,
feel the dead holds of knots;
wake at the smoke
of green at the top,
the stars of flowers
pushing through.
these trees are ten men tall, and growing;
they are the towered deep,
I lose myself in the water;
the hollow lowness a cenotaph
for my sins
which blot my lips
and black my heart.

Annie Hayter



 
  Today, there have been 168290 visitors (359254 hits) on this page!  
 
This website was created for free with Own-Free-Website.com. Would you also like to have your own website?
Sign up for free