July 3, 2007
Stammerer on Scree — by Owen Sheers
This slope is my language.
A shifting skin of stone
that slips under my grip,
feet pedaling the one moving spot,
sharded slate, flowing hard water.
But when I am still,
crabbed against its steepness,
cheek to its side, a child on its mother,
then it stops.
Stone-ticks out to quiet,
rests itself on the mountain,
July 3, 2007 at 11:01 AM | Permalink
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LOVE IT. Thanks for sharing!
Posted by: T. | Jul 3, 2007 6:12:15 PM
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