Friday, 2 March 2012

Glastonbury Thorn

Glastonbury Thorn

A brisk cleave, a split bud-eye,

where first I was cut
in the first weeks of July,
when growth out of dust
was easy when drenched-
thirst was the want which stunted the bush.

A new stem shot,
bore fruit in autumn,
got picked when ripe and
holy was the taste.
When your juice and sap-stained hands
brush the garden grass tonight-
let it feel each blade as if it were a hair
on your head, or on mine.
We’re out of sight,
these meetings are so rare,
let’s light ourselves
and make ash of time.

by Joshua Bougourd

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