Hunter of Leaves

To Gwyn:

Hunter of leaves,
Lover of the seasons
Take my wild soul
To the moon in the river.

Wind swept trees by the Ribble, PenworthamAs centuries take flight
On carrion wings
Marshall their magic,
Let truth be seen.

Wind swept trees, PenworthamThrough wind blown years,
Leaf strewn vision
And a harvest of tears
Let truth be spoken.

Wind swept trees, Penwortham

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3 thoughts on “Hunter of Leaves

  1. “Take my wild soul/to the moon in the river” is lyrical and compelling. Speaking one’s truth to the moon in the river sounds deeply magical. A powerful ritual seems to be taking place that involves tears and what lies beyond them. Charlotte

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