Helen Calcutt

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Best Poem of Helen Calcutt



I came out over the roof
a red girl covered in a cling of soot
rubbed off cloud. Not quite
the awkward keel of the sun;
nor the sunlit hymn of roads before golden traffic.
With my smeared painted head,
waiting to be present
as Moon is a priest
a tome, a light mistaken for a way.

Read the full of Sunrise

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