Categories
Poetry

When Sky Clashes With Sky

I have found my calligraphy

said Barbara Hepworth

glued to her wheelchair smoking a cigarette.  

Behind this nonpareil beauty there are

spores & motes

swirling

carrying

pestilence

death a desire for annihilation.

Jealousy is a Greek invention.

The sky sighs softly almost Shakespearean maybe too Shakespearean maybe a hint of the Sophoclean.

The wind stirs thoughts.

If I fall into the sky who will save me? 

S.B. Woodcock

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