Rockhollow Series: Folk and foraging
I caught the Summer in my bones. I am
but a fool for verbena-swings, Tiger moths and thyme mountains.
Rose of everything. Life is ticking on.
So this is the path I'll take,
and I've been making
nettle seed parcels
- gifting them freely,
dandelion honey in jars sit half-drunk
in others homes where feet can't venture.
I wasn't wise.
I gave myself meekly
you gotta walk wrong roads a while to get right.
watching flying ants make pancakes on the lawn
and sketching shadows of ferns on paper
I'll be fine, I've got years.
Drink up some happiness,
dance bare with that devil twisting in your chest.
I'll harvest my yield,
drenched in truth
and pure, cerulean light.