Under crisp and deathless winter mornings
Ensconced in hollows in ash-grey burrs
Wassail godhead de proprietate probanda;
Here I left your voice last
Supine
In fog.
A challenge; memory affronts in
Spirals, sifting the useless to the
Apron somewhere at the crown.
This, rather, is where I left you.
The rest is seasonal.
Nov 14, 2013
Nov 14, 2013 at 5:47 PM UTC
Under crisp and deathless winter mornings
Ensconced in hollows in ash-grey burrs
Wassail godhead de proprietate probanda;
Here I left your voice last
Supine
In fog.
A challenge; memory affronts in
Spirals, sifting the useless to the
Apron somewhere at the crown.
This, rather, is where I left you.
The rest is seasonal.
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