Dig
Sultry cloud un-
moved over immobile
shadows fingers
slowed in the warm syrup
of noon ennui of sparrows
accumulating all heat
color tinted meadow-
shade as if by thought alone
a somewhere continuum
of sky & grass & air
that swirls endless
an antique world containing
itself an amphora frieze played
out on soil-stained fragments
chalky figures desperate
to trespass into the orbit
of another.
3 thoughts on "Dig"
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I enjoy the cloud-like stanza shapes
This poem flows really well. The form is perfect for it.
Brigit – I also enjoyed the form and the line breaks. “ennui of sparrows” – Priceless!