you were new
as buttercups
in April,
silent as a spill
of church-light
on the grass
though I felt it
in my own throat –
your breath
and that sweet,
augural hitch
as I passed
© Sarah Whiteley
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you were new
as buttercups
in April,
silent as a spill
of church-light
on the grass
though I felt it
in my own throat –
your breath
and that sweet,
augural hitch
as I passed
© Sarah Whiteley
Enjoyed the poem much…oh but that second stanza…such wonderful imagery.
That’s very nice Sarah – and of course I am understating.
Thank you, John!
Another finely wrought and poised piece.
Delicate imagery – I especially love
“silent as a spill
of church-light
on the grass”….
I do love your poetry.
Says it beautifully. 🙂