State:

Country: U.S.A

Stone Kite The ravine is cut like a wolf's ragged jaw, stones scatter at its brink some falter then fall. Below, lions in the mix. Upward at cliff's mouth the ridge stretches, then wanders into skyline, thick cumulus, wind filled ghosts that summit out over large clusters of mountain- laurel and scar-colored poppies. The garrison established. Where time has no Autumn, foliage trails down a cold clear brook and spreads in the rich biology of crystallized minerals. Forgetting last years rain. At the junction igneous stone and tacit granite cut deep blue fields into space and fill the eyes that follow, and follow then soar. Copyright © David Sutherland 2000

Send private comments to author: dsutherland@calldei.com David Sutherland is Managing Editor of Recursive Angel - Poetry Webzine: http://www.recursiveangel.com

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