Unearth 09 Poem by William Pryor

something about babbling brooks
unstoppable - the obstacles
make song
& dance for the sea.

in city streets
you get lost
& don't want to show it

you whistle tuneless


as though familiar with a space, an interface
between images
as though you had no particular place to go


that's the problem:

scudding bright day
pods with peas
obvious weeds

world's obligations


it is
action after all
wood ants
may look chaotic
with all those pine needles