‘Counting’
The copse looms,
a gang-up,
tangled limbs,
clawing gnarled branches
that bruise the sky to regal violet
as they weep sap
and drop their leaves to the brush.
Kindling
& there, in that pile
I’m crushed
against you,
your ribs grinding into me
…
(Full poem 🔗 in bio)
#photography #photostr #proofofwork #poetry #nature
