RS Thomas
taking the words and burnishing them
returning them as carefully as stones
banging hymn books together
praising the dust
the golden spines of thought
we follow in the lee of
his duffle-coated eye
where is the wind coming from
has it shape-shifted the scene
stand still
he is turning around to look at you
piercingly past you
where has your eye been all these years
your prodigal ear
follow
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