Brambles

 

Brambles

 

A hawk hangs low in the sky

Tethered by invisible string

Held, perhaps, by child’s hand or spirit

Above the grassy common.

A cloud rises from the ground,

A familiar place, trodden many times

When out of breath or

Clutching at the arm of a loved one.

Brambles and bushes, waning light

Birdsong fading with the day,

As twilight creeps into the air

Lifts you, and takes you away.

 


 

© Copyright David Marriott 2012 – 2015 all rights reserved­.
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