Twigs pout promises:
Teeny green kisses, bud-mouthed.
They shake supple backs at the hills-
Over there~ downs paragraph the skyline
In chunks of bluey woodland
where we walked.
Slate folded the valley into a dappled concertina
as I folded you,
(Neatly)
to await a warmer spring.
2014 copyright Beeskiffle/ebby.
here is my heliometer, measuring quietly in words
Moving right along with you
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Such an elegantly painted nature poem, Ebby. I recall seeing twigs like the ones you describe in your opening stanza (on willow trees I think, or maybe it was cherry trees). Either way I’ve never seen them described as uniquely as you have done here, and the view across the valley is sublime.
Thank you, Brad.
oh goddess .. this tweaked and tugged at me so delicately, so beautifully … that last verse .. so utterly tender and enfolding … building love is awesome textured work x