A New Metre: Poetry Archive

“. . . it is superfluous for me to write unto you . . .” —II Corinthians 9:1

Above the Swamp

Up the tree
and see the sky.
Hear the music on the breeze.

Look down:
the grass around,
a brown slow river
creeps among the cypress roots,

and tall straight pines
scent the wind
and make a place
for vines.

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