Bones of Rainbows

                

                These are the stones,

            Where hooded scavengers

              Each day pick apart the

                 Bones of rainbows,

                 The distances that

               Halted the march of

         Empire’s greedy ambition;

             That defined a nation,

      The place where the comeback

            That ended in nought,

     Began to generate excitement.

           But the breathing here,

      The tales that were born here

     and weave, like treacle smoke,

     In and out of lost eagle winds

     And wool-hung rushes were

               

            Worth it all …

            Worth it all

      And so much more.

 

24/5/2013 (Birdoswald Fort)

Photosources: Top photo: http://www.mikepitts.wordpress.com

Second photo: www.fairtradehadrianswall.co.uk

Related articles

• Hello All! (westernclassicalstudies.wordpress.com)
• Just Another of the Usual Suspects (westernclassicalstudies.wordpress.com)
• The genius cucullatus, or the Original Hoodie (cymraes.wordpress.com)

Advertisements