Saturday, October 01, 2005

Ghost light

Grey light under a sheet of the finest silk drizzle;
Soft moist wind nuzzles the trees.

Everything filmed with water-shine.

Rosehip and hawthorn tight fleshed, swollen to bursting,
Pregnant with a summer long since gone.
A silver rain-bead dangles from each

Red, fat underbelly.

Dusk's dim ghost-light is spangled with
Bright water constellations
Shining under every berry, every yellow leaf. A million
Silver globes dangling;
Reflecting an inverted world
Far brighter than the one I see.

A million silent mirrors
marking me.

(c) A McN


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