Friday, 3 April 2015


Trees against a skyline
foreshadow an ending
from this angle – or that’s
how you might see it.
Coming up with clayed boots
from the road behind
the back of the hill,
there’s something different
in the air – as if I might be
in another time-zone,
drawing a circle
through this wilderness
back to shade upon shade
of palms and oasis gardens
and in an orchard somewhere
branches untouched, apple unbitten.

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