The Complete Bearded Stranger
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Year Breaths

 

Yew lays on my crown

Two sun warmed dense feather hands;

A confirmation.

 

Imagination’s 

Touch of rain on a harebell;

The flower drum song.

 

On sunburnt highways

Poppies burst into being

Bright sears of blood.

 

The dragon autumn

Has his tongue among the trees;

Leaves begin to burn.

 

Like unshaded lamps 

In sudden gusts of wind

Chased roses blow out.

 

A gentle juggler, 

Spinning clouds of light crystals,

Spirits the path white.

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Bring flowers on this winter night

where all the garden sleeps

                                beneath its leaves

I ache for the sweet of petal...