Thursday, 1 November 2012

ANOTHER PULL ON THE OARS


The evening breeze
and the reeds 
rustle.

The snake swims
in the skin 
of the water

It vanishes into the reeds.

I face away
from a place 
that is always before me.


3 comments:

  1. I like poems the titles of which play an integral part like this.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Many thanks John and Dominic.

    ReplyDelete

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