in the hard
fields and watch
a hill like a wave,
sweeping toward me,
chalk crumbled crest
of the rolling
I can stare
until it topples me;
It is just
a matter of
Filed under Juliet Waldron
Tagged as England, geology, Juliet Waldron, poetry, Second Wind Publishing, time, Wiltshire
Eventually it will crumble as well. I like the poem.
My kind of poem — short, beautiful, and philosophic.
This is beautiful, Juliet.
Makes me think of Sutton Hoo
I love it!
Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:
You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Google+ account. ( Log Out / Change )
Connecting to %s
Notify me of follow-up comments via email.
Notify me of new posts via email.
Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.
Join 7,822 other followers
Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.