To all light things
I compared her; to
a snowflake, a feather.
I remember she rested
at the dance on my
arm, as a bird.
on its nest lest
the eggs break, lest
she lean too heavily
on our love. Snow
melts, feathers
are blow away;
I have let
her ashes down
in me like an anchor.
R. S. THOMAS
I love that poem! It's so beautiful and full of feeling!
Diptych by me.
Katy x
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Have a lovely day!
Katy x