by Peter Humphreys

on the fortress edge
the Vltava
flows below
bank bursting
the town old
and newed
holds its breath

above it
vines in
serried lines
blossom late
as Spring
lost itself
in deluge
dark clouds
cold gripping days

this was where
the Slavs came first
and still
we rest upon these shores
despite conflict
and suppression
it is here
on summer days
the children come to learn
and lovers too
caress on grass
whose roots
are theirs


Posted on 09/05/2013
Copyright © 2024 Peter Humphreys

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