Prologue Poem by Tom Pickard

Prologue



When my lover became my enemy
I made my bed amongst winds
and drove the old road 'till my heart crashed.
Where's the bypass?

Washing my shirts, wringing them out.
Hung in the breeze.

Water skips
undressed
over outcrops.

What it says is.

Wind,
roots in rock.

Lying on Long Tongue,
sun diffused in mist.
Easy sleep
without waking.

Edge of
displaced echoes
air around
and sound
of  bird and 'plane

A swallow's glittering chitter.

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