Monday, June 03, 2019

New Poetry by Claire Roberts










ONE

Every library is a pile of seasonal leaves;
amber-coloured pages crack
like twigs underfoot

and scent the air around my cubicle
with the arms of a young maple tree:
a crimson sentry leaning on the windowsill,

my favourite book clear as a name.
I have one life and poetry another.



- Claire Roberts 2015





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