michael oliver

(13-4-1948 / swansea)

The Shillington Strophes


Twilight, a mute textile
Eye wandered fabric
Ripens the golden dust
Wefting with the present


Graves mark the known now gone
Scythed the seasons cut grass
Whose hay feeds somewhere
Singing of reflection


As all thing make focus
Lensed with a pilgrimage
The distance is passing
Beneath the sun's setting

Submitted: Saturday, August 10, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, August 27, 2013
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