July 2013
- Details
- Written by: Stephen Bailey
my cabbage patch
resists Monsanto . . .
white butterflies
- Details
- Written by: Stephen Bailey
huddled up with flu . . .
my heart becomes a stranger
to the word made flesh
- Details
- Written by: Stephen Bailey
distant echoes . . .
the Homeric laughter
of yesterday's news
- Details
- Written by: Stephen Bailey
weeping willow —
the silhouettes of me
cast by wanton stars
- Details
- Written by: Stephen Bailey
fallen leaves —
the tree an oak becomes
in winter rain
- Details
- Written by: Stephen Bailey
a morepork's cry —
helplessly I grow older
night by night
- Details
- Written by: Stephen Bailey
a morepork’s cry —
curling through the valley
silence finds a voice
- Details
- Written by: Stephen Bailey
a morepork's cry —
far from the world of words
alone with the moon
- Details
- Written by: Stephen Bailey
this stillness!
where does it come from,
ebbing tide?
- Details
- Written by: Stephen Bailey
crescent moon —
light drowns within palms
of emptiness
- Details
- Written by: Stephen Bailey
through this valley
generations have trod
. . . have trod
- Details
- Written by: Stephen Bailey
morning chill —
'quardle oodle ardle'
magpies signing in
- Details
- Written by: Stephen Bailey
dead low water —
my coming and my going
merge as one
- Details
- Written by: Stephen Bailey
under her feet,
the dankness of rotten leaves
joins the dance
- Details
- Written by: Stephen Bailey
lightning flash —
city streets rumble
free of words