The Water Butt
It stood, a great, iron chamber on stone feet.
She balanced on tip toe, high enough
for her chin to drop over the top,
for her elbows to splay left and right.
She looked into water and saw sky.
Infinity shone blue as the sheen on a raven's wing.
Opening her throat, she sang,
her voice bloomed from a thousand places,
close as the belly of a drum rolling,
tall as Winchester Cathedral,
clear as Gabriel.
Page(s) 10
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