Photograph

Ruins of a Cistercian abbey.

Summer's heat greens

the cloister-wreck.

 

A low stone wall

out of Frost's blank verse

winds beside a stooped elm.

 

Grass, moss, ivy

(heedless, creedless)

claim these saint-acres,

 

this ghost-church

whose time-bitten archway's

ablaze with strong low sun.

 

 

Thomas DeFreitas

2017





Poetry by thos edw def The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 51 times
Written on 2017-07-30 at 09:19

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Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
I realize that they don't contain the accepted number of syllables. Still, each of these triplets reads like a haiku.
2017-08-01


dee quirke
nice one
2017-07-31


Ashe The PoetBay support member heart!
A picture in words. I could see it with every new paragraph.
Ashe
2017-07-31


ken d williams The PoetBay support member heart!
Bravo, Tom. love the way you use words, well chosen. Interplay, your words, very very good poetry, exultant work.
ken
2017-07-30