Poetry Forum

Antcliff wrote:The only thing
in the ruined croft cottage


Brass bed,
roof gone, door gone.
Where the wind sometimes rests,
undisturbed by rain, whispering
at stars

Lovely whispery last line and a half, Seth!

Wow, Seth, that's about as good as any cinq could ever hope to be! Such a strong, clean 'spirit of place'.

(with apologies to TS Eliot)


I, too,
have stalked the smoke
o'er narrow tracks and watched
the shadows that rise from danger
and dreams.

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