August 1, 2020

Landscape poetry

By Nimue Brown

Marginal

Life is richest

At the margins.

Wood edge, field side

Light and shade.

Butterfly places

Flower haven

Alive with bees.

I eat wild herbs

Underripe blackberries

Spot small birds

Too fast for naming.

Happiest at the edges

Where wild lives

Cling to the unwanted

Land at the boundary.

Untamed, uncut, unfarmed

But not unloved.

About Nimue Brown

Druid, author, dreamer, folk enthusiast, parent, polyamourous animist, ant-fash, anti-capitalist, bisexual steampunk. Drinker of coffee, maker of puddings. Exploring life as a Pagan, seeking good and meaningful ways to be, struggling with mental health issues and worried about many things. View all posts by Nimue Brown

This entry was posted on Saturday, August 1st, 2020 at 9:30 am and tagged with landscape, marginal, poem, poetry and posted in Bardic. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.

2 responses to “Landscape poetry”

potiapitchford
August 1st, 2020 at 4:51 pm

I can see those places with your words. Remember places I have been, I prefer ripe blackberries so sweet plucked from the wild 😊

Reply
Sue Marsh
August 1st, 2020 at 10:52 pm

Beautiful!

Reply

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