Parting with the day
the muffled
ruffling
of my birds
in that tree
soft bells ring
they toll
invisibly
there is a herd
landscape
turf
heaping
in the hamlet
stillness
droning
flight
reigns over
thee
intimate harvest
yellow
green
and red
disdainful smiles
all in beauty
fill our heads
it is animated
and fleeting
gritting babies
teething
glorious empires unfolding
in the gentlest of rage
in spiteful reverence for this
oft
enchanted
land
learned
ignoble
strivings
chisel sculptures
in secret shame
the soul is our
own prey
in
elegy
a
moralist’s
sigh
covered in a red
vale
inquire into the spirit
of nature
within
they nod
beneath
us
in forlorn
hapless love
patiently
keen
sovereign
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