THE CLOUD
The cloud is on the hill.
Words will come.
What the stark trees say.
What the rivers say.
A wood pigeon
welcomes the warm rain.
I have been away,
but returned to this silence
where the words are old
and make themselves.
—
February 2, 2020 by simonhlilly
THE CLOUD
The cloud is on the hill.
Words will come.
What the stark trees say.
What the rivers say.
A wood pigeon
welcomes the warm rain.
I have been away,
but returned to this silence
where the words are old
and make themselves.
—
Shhh …