What better time to write than in the glow of sun on the coast! I'm not sure what worth there is in this other than he experiment of tracing a thought which on reflection I find interesting. Yes I saw an ant walking on some bricks and here is the rest of that thought.
Sunbaked Pathers
This glorious pavement
Forget me not says the ant
Upon it reciting words that
Were spoken when there was grass only here and dunes that stretched fifty yards or so in successions of mounds four own to the shore
His legs touch the earth
And communicate with it
The lines of pavement cry for their
Mother a giant slab dug from limestone in a quarry where shards
Of sand compressed to birth it
And before that structures organic and non crumbled and decomposed to weave the colors of the sand
This is my home wedged and perfectly tessellated between my brothers hard and stubborn as the filler that binds us
All these things are here present
History playing out the shape of The land only crudely buried beneath
The make of man
A collection of poems and musings by a rookie poet and constant dreamer - J.O.S.H
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