Take Off Rough stubble glows, burnt apricot. A buzzard soars. Light clings. His breast a travelling sunset, He warms the world with wings.
Take Off
Rough stubble glows, burnt apricot.
A buzzard soars. Light clings.
His breast a travelling sunset,
He warms the world with wings.
Alison Brackenbury
If you've any comments on this poem, Alison Brackenbury would like to hear them.
