Thursday, 10 September 2015

The Thursday Poem

Potted Flowers with Books IV
Eric Barjot


Little Elegy
for a child who skipped rope

Here lies resting, out of breath,
Out of turns, Elizabeth
Whose quicksilver toes not quite
Cleared the whirring edge of night.

Earth whose circles round us skim
Till they catch the lightest limb,
Shelter now Elizabeth
And for her sake trip up death.

X.J Kennedy
(21st August 1929 - )

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