In my mind, the glowing hump
Becomes illuminated by angry rays
Striking off the stone grey sea.
And for a moment
The discordant gulls
Weave as one with the receding day.
Voices of the long dead
Sweep upwards from the desecrated grave,
To keen with the flowing wind.
And, as eyelids flutter,
People gather in the gloom
And the gestalt sings awhile,
Despite times menstruum.
Fiona Colligan-Yano
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1 comment:
Thanks to Chris on The Modern Antiquarian for bringing this one to my attention. Chris writes - the mound in question is on Porth Island, just north of Newquay.
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