Beddgelert
Cleanse these tricky instruments of mine,
my hands and tongue.
Use fresh water, then
let them settle, still and pale.
And let me play the sleepy priest
who speaks no word till listening's done.
Yes, cleanse these instruments of mine,
my hands and tongue.
Let me sit as cool and dumb
as three stones on a dusty sill.
Or drift aloft like lazy smoke
seeping from an unwatched hill.
James Sheard
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On Jun 1, 2026, at 10:15 PM, K. Lauren de Boer <poetl...@gmail.com> wrote:
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