Darkmoon :: Spinning New Illusions

I am an aspiring writer. This is a small sample of my poetry. More may appear. If you're interested in more, or talking about poetry, feel free to contact me. Arbutus I stretch along the peeling trunk, lean with it over salt water. Branches claw for handfuls of sky. Water sounds like sucked air between wet stones; erosion, marble-green and ore-red. I feel chameleonic My skin peels, my roots dig into stratified shale. I lick a coat of salt from the rocks where stoats and raccoons come, rasp them clean with hair-fine roots. I reach skyward. (Copyright Susan Dickson, October 2002) Navigate Blog