Menhir, Brittany
written by: Polly Oliver
@Polrocksnbones
Listen…
There it is,
Under the whispers
Of meadow and pine –
The hum of time.
Lay there at my base,
Face to the sky.
Your living and striving
Are as the scurryings
Of ants through lichen
On granite.
JAN/FEB 2017 AUTHOR OF THE MONTH at Spillwords.com
A mother of two boys, scribbling from the Western coasts of the UK, mainly poetry, but whatever comes out really. Former journalist and PR professional, the first whispers of middle age and declining eyesight made having a real go at 'real writing' a little more urgent. A Cornish native, I made my home in South West Wales so the sound of the sea sighs through my work every now and then. Lover of nature, yoga, boutique coffee shops and occasional (and very dreadful) surfer.
Latest posts by Polly Oliver (see all)
- The Old Mill - October 20, 2019
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