
Nearing Catstye Cam
they quivered,
veined and sooty.
You prodded for ore.
Pushed a thumb
into Red Tarn.
Hollowed out
the softness
of summits,
livered beneath
the evening gloam.
My head tilted back;
a scale of grief,
borne before your
leaving.
You were
such a giver.
No comments:
Post a Comment