12/3/2020 Poetry by Paul Sutton Kristian Odberg CC
MUD AND SUN Sudden sunlight hits the road as you drive past what you've known – seen in the rear-view – then gone. We understand these don't last but what matters isn't this. Winds open the fields to trees. Long hills crest the horizon. Somehow a child sees a horse carved into chalk, then riding, riding out over estates, long days, paths of joy, new towns where forgotten rivers flow over boots, the children's toes washed in purest mud which cleans everything – leaving me this. PAUL SUTTON: Born in London, 1964. Six collections - most recent from UK publisher Knives, Forks and Spoons Press: "The Diversification of Dave Turnip", March 2017. "Falling Off" (KFS, January 2015) was Poetry Book Society Recommended Autumn Reading, 2015. US Collections: "Parables for the Pouring Rain (2019) and "Brains Scream at Night" (2010), from NY publisher BlazeVox.
Susan Kay Anderson
12/9/2020 08:02:53 am
Beautiful. What appears and disappears.
Susan Kay Anderson
12/9/2020 11:36:39 am
This also a great title.🌞 Comments are closed.
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