Moss is a way

        Moss is a way

        of looking at a wall

        soft veined between the rocks

        it chokes the builder’s art

        and grouts

        the crack or mislaid stone.

        And here lain on wet clay

        this century

        of bluestone divide

        draws up

        a slow capillary of years

        to feed a sponge of velvet life.

        Moss is a way of considering

        the colour green

        on it the painter

        checks the brush

        the poet spells

        the noun.

These poems are from my new collection IN THE APRICOT DARKNESS (view the cover and contents below in my recent posts). They are now being published individually, daily under 'recent posts' on my blog and will be available shortly as an eBook that can be read online or downloaded for free.