Robin Lindsay Wilson
Mending Weather
the spell under the bell tower
matches your chromosomes
the structure of midday fields
is the same design as your toes
turn slowly at the crossroads
amble through the pinewoods
no cowardly shape you make
can harm this thoughtless place
if your laughter flared and fell
the tread of bracken and moss
would bounce your conscience
back to all those tiny mercies
bestowed as the country’s gift
provided so many storms ago
the scars have been forgotten
Page(s) 13
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