Trudging the path between the yew trees, Those harbingers of death and sorrow, Monks’ bare feet crush the dross of berries, Poisonous, red froth between their toes. Psittacism of holy mantras Below the prickle of green branches Drowns out the twittering of sparrows, The songs of blackbird, thrush and finches. The dull clapper of the […]
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