The Many Ways You Can Marry In ‘high Windows'

Poem By Greta Bellamacina

your arms are sunset sonnets
made of pavement oak
filling the rain passing

altering the winds to the country tide.
eight hundred ways, manned by the atlas of longer worlds,
your love it is skywards for

the holds of gentle eyes
that surround the river's skin
only to break deathstones for time in the sky.

Back to your house built to wood
back in the almost horizon sun,
your love is the eve of.

Gazing down every street
In the beginnings to unmorninged heights
of the many ways you can marry in ‘high windows',

read in windfelt light birds
of distanced swung skies
that are left to you, which are setting.

Comments about The Many Ways You Can Marry In ‘high Windows'

Gazing down every street In the beginnings to unmorninged heights of the many ways you can marry in ‘high windows', very original in ideas and in the use of the language. thank u dear poetess. tony Write more please.
My dear Greta, most enchanting words, this much I grant you. Intriguing too! But what is the meaning of them, that is my question? I have read it through and through and each time not without pleasure, But the meaning escapes me. The fault, no doubt, lies with me


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