{ pathetic.org }


by Jo Halliday

A grain of black stone rolls on
pebble, pulverised- and water and dust on the way,
but soon, a cry rings out and an incoherent laugh;

the bears assemble, the moon rises, and you bring scents in your fist,
stories in your arms.


Posted on 08/08/2010
Copyright © 2021 Jo Halliday

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