Atlantic low - Paul Kingnorth

[Larry Robinson]

Atlantic low


never to come by here again. And I do not know 
what it is all about and I do not care 
what it is all about, only that the sun comes 
and touches me sometimes and touches the stone 
and reminds me. There are trees
on the southern slope, their needles shift in the cloud, shift 
under the mountain. Always there is cloud 
on the mountain. I dream of the sun, 
the sun which touches me when the river speaks,
sun which soaks the stone white, dissolves 
the cloud, dissolves the mountain, 
dissolves me in it. To be dissolved.

	- Paul Kingnorth
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