Song of the Pebble

Song of the Pebble

(after George Mackay Brown)


Said pebble to black tulip:

‘Whirl until you’re dark tatters, then die’.


Said pebble to owl: ‘A chipped cry, a feathered face.

Soon. Soon. Soon.’


The pebble spoke to a man drilling a hole in a wall.

‘Tea; breakfast cob. Tonight, draughts of ale; a long sleep’.


Sang pebble to moon:

‘Flash, old lamp I wear after rain, teeming neutrals of first light’,


Said pebble to snowflake:

‘Don’t melt, we’re for the pub, remember, stay cold’.


Pebble in watch, time

in my hand, palmed, cheap strap, throb, curls upon silence.



3 Comments Add yours

  1. Michelle says:

    A gorgeous photograph, Pam.

  2. pamthompsonpoetry says:

    Thanks, MichelleX

  3. pamthompsonpoetry says:

    Sorry for the delay…thznks Michelle

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s