he stoops

at the head
of the glen
he stoops
he stooks
he scythes
he sighs
the hay
the way
his father
did and
he before
before did
stand
against the hill
a man
never to be
broken
he sees
a world
that long
since gone
had carried
hope before
him



Poetry by Peter Humphreys
Read 802 times
Written on 2007-07-26 at 18:56

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Mark J. Wood
He doesn't stoop - he does conquer: quietly and unseen.

Mark.
2007-07-31