Tuesday, December 25, 2012

Lapwings


A dream to live
like the lapwings
as gust borne
flecks of emerald
that twist and shift
into monochrome
over the marsh
split by salt creeks
where the silt creeps
silent to choke
this fading quay.

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2 comments:

Pat said...

Matt, I love this poem!

10:52 pm
mattm said...

Thanks Pat, Matt

9:13 pm

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