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Old ways (Free verse) by ecargo Here a path ends,
above reap and reel,
the sea stones and the long rills.
Here I find a quiet hour,
where no wind sounds
and no breath follows.
I walk above the sea,
the broken paths above the mysteries
of the high alters drowned,
and by sea light read in the cursive of birds,
as we hang in mid air,
a sorcererâs word.
I scatter in the scattering waves,
all longing in the buoy bell,
the black hags raising their black wings to the sun,
in becoming, undone.
Up the ladder:
fragment
Down the ladder:
The Drunkest ever
Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
Arithmetic Mean: 9.571428
Posted: March 19, 2006 6:01 PM PST; Last modified: March 19, 2006 6:01 PM PSTWeighted score: 6.2294464 Overall Rank: 945 Comments:
*Arrgh! For "alters," please read "altars."
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'Reap and reel' was my favourite excerpt from this, made me think of fields on one side and the sea on the other...but also of stone and wild grass pathways. 'Black hags...' was another class line.
All in all, a top read before bed!