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Monday, June 29, 2009


Sun.
And wind and grass and white-chalk horse.
The earthen ramparts of an ancient fort
Rise tall; on their steep sides the harebells thoughtless bloom,
Rememb'ring not the conquerors
Who crushed their sky-blue bells beneath avenging feet.

An unfinished poem about White Horse Hill in southern England.





1 comment:

Rochelle Blue said...

lovely poem =]

xoxo