03 June 2013

Stones, Circular

the gods could see them
from the sky, these
arrangements of stones, pointing
heavenwards, the furrows
dug into the earth, too, a
script for their god-eyes to
see, these appeals for
clemency and a good
harvest, in simple unadorned
eloquence, ungilded, made
with what was at hand, an
artful shaping of nature to
tell a tale, make some
supplication, the stones and
furrows are silent, but tell
their stories, nonetheless.

the bonfires, too, crackling up, the
smoke streaking skywards a
curious script, scrolling out
all those human desires

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