Friday, June 02, 2006

Rear View

Retracing my default beliefs
through pastures owned by docile sheep,
bucolic byways fall and rise
just like the endless compromise.

Beyond that sandstone rectory
across a mine encrusted lea,
a mourning dove morosely wails
to herald more oblique travails.

The air is ripe with stinking life,
convictions balance on a knife;
reflection, which allays my fears
is closer than it first appears.


ozymandiaz said...

Simply awesome

rch said...

Thanks a lot!


Anonymous said...

Beautiful work. I wish I had your vocabulary. Your words are always hand picked and perfectly placed.

Anonymous said...

It's just me!

rch said...

Hey Shirley, thanks and congrats on your addition to the list of 100 Blogging Poets III, your blog is looking good! 8^D