quartz shard sparks
Heaving granite looms gloomily, through
moonlighty mist drifts.
Here, in the land of hollow women;
bouldering enormity~shadows rule the ruinous remnants~
chips from the old, old block; (rage encrusted
and fossil-stamped) crouch in crevices,
learning the ways of their magma-veined daddy.
like a swift.tipped sewing box,
button rocks (Worn away in situ; Scattered love,
pin pierced with starlight - a measure of days,)
roll away across the spagnum moss.
.
.
Advertisement
It’s a signature Ebby poem. All the marks of a perfectionist with one finger on the pulse of the sublime and another on the pulse of the reader.
this is kind of dark and brooding, as relationships between rock and mist often are … i love those characterisations
we’re all strange stuff, aren’t we? each holds the other up/down in shadow/light … there’s more to this as well but i need to re-read before its layers unveil …
gorgeous writing …
xx
Oh, not hollow. That would be too sad. Maybe there is just the slightest twinkle that gets more room to breathe if we let it? I love the gentle dance through your work.