poem, poetry

John Swain – One Poem

 

I am delighted to be a sharing a beautiful poem by American poet, John Swain. He brings nature to a new life.

Below the Greenstone

Asleep in the cove
while the moose bellow
and clash antlers
snapping the fir trees.

Rock coast and rocks fall
down the basalt
wet with lake spray,
I follow, falling
through my twisted limbs,
your seldom wing.

Sky of northern lights
in an isolation
I want to swim
into your moving colors
with the trout.

God on the ridge
with the darkness
and the dead, peculiar
in their bliss,
and the gleaming amber
of the island morn.


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John Swain lives in Louisville, Kentucky, USA.  Least Bittern Books published his second collection, Under the Mountain Born, which can be purchased here.

 

 

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