from In Brigantia

from my poetry blog

Coronets For Ghosts

This is the opening page, of the opening poem, from which my forthcoming poetry collection takes its name.

from  In Brigantia Boathouse

She is painted blue and proud

shining bright

in natural fires;

igniting dawns

Sitting by the river,

rounded aesthetics

rolling down a verdigris valley

herons rising

in glacial drifts

over wooden hives

Coins, unearthed in soil

Roman — no hoard,

breathing once more


the honeyed son,

placed upon her lintels

for luck


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