Albion, Art, sacred sites

Passing through

heather

***

When we had gone, the grass held our shadows
Carved into place by the weight of a moment.
Eavesdropping trees whispered our secrets
To feathered messengers when the sun sought our warmth,
And, finding it no more, lent its own to memory.
The breeze sighed our absence in the emptiness
While the dew mourned with the flowers.
But earth smiled at their folly
And stone remembered.

***

heather 2015 1

1 thought on “Passing through”

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