Poem by Jill Jones

Here's a poem from my friend, Jill Jones, who blogs from Sydney at Ruby Street http://rubystreet.blogspot.com/




Walk to the falls

A different smell, the wood
but this is all breath words
and root, closer darker solitude.
Water spreads falling beads
down my skin, chased sun.
Sky is high and fleet again
covered, sudden, gone
all this space atom sung.
Not bound by fog plumes
I’d slip or bend too close.
High above cloud drums
a portion of universe.

Reflect green wet stone.
Or my thought lose its worm.