Epping forest | |
near us at the end of the line the train stops from darkness into air no one comes this far on the central line maybe porcini pickers and those who run from the smoke stepping out on the platform but becoming distant from what you knew and then with every footstep crunching upon the ways of old songs and their lines. Below you are the ones who came before whose thin whisps of smoke from clearings sent uneasy messages for man to mean something. And all at once in early morning haze a new summer began millennia ago and they in the clearing asked if man was coming |
Sunday, 3 November 2013
EPPING FOREST
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my poems
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