Featured Poetry

Reft

When through branches bars of mote-light

slanting heavily 

 

and behind ordinary 

things the colours 

 

shivering in me a drenched 

child, this longing 

 

for a breath

to break it all open:

 

sunlight beaten like foil onto the darkness

clean dust, clean wind

 

and the sky and 

the sky and the sky

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