This is not a landscape poem



Emerald shards lay
Hard on the eye
Soft to bare touch
Remnants of despairing skies
From cooler times
Dapples the light that lay here;
Enhancing the glow of the evergreens,
Guardians of warm nights
And warmer days spent.

The sacrifice beared by
Some ancient branch
Formed a runway beneath
Landings of tender feet.
And then a perch hidden from life
For the youth of Cupids arrow.

Bright satin ovals
Each befall a different artist pencil
Refreshed from dusk to dawn.
To call two the same, a sin,
Yet the same yellow hearts
Bear uncouth their yolk
For the fruit of fruits’ sake.

And I’m sure amongst
The whispers on the cool breeze
That froze time between those lengthened nights,
Trained ears would somehow magnify
The breathy sigh of turgid stalks
“How we’ve waited
For the weight of your bones”

Lottie Brooke

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