20 292
Diana Sanders
20
falling
I
from the top of the hill i jump out of myself
and into mist which gives way in silver folds
i pass the jackdaw who croaks a laughing hello
i weep at a clouds edge as I see the wild cat
scurrying out of existence i watch blind
children gutter from a war that rages
and yet there is such a beauty in this place
that it could tear my heart in two
II
under normal circumstances the stone
lies mute like a curled swan but in days
and nights of extremes what is outside
is reflected inside and it writhes screams
and pounds at the threshold