Fragment

He’s a glacial mind
ploughing roughshod overland
shearing hilltops
pushing rude boulders
polishing craggy granite and we
are the moraine in his wake.

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About Ray Sharp

Father, poet, triathlete, local public health planner
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2 Responses to Fragment

  1. hypercryptical says:

    Clever. I wonder who you are writing about… :o]
    Anna :o]

  2. Had to look up moraine — what an absolutely beautiful word! The whole poem’s beautiful, really. Especially dig the image of ‘shearing hilltops.’

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