Quarry
Extinct, fallow, weed-clogged
Cavities of harvested air
Look down upon the harbour
Where familial rock is set
Cut square and thrown
With brutal care beneath
These same feet passing mine
On this and other Sundays
© PJ Nolan 2005
Forward Poetry Prizes
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Some interesting and brave choices this year – as always I have some
catching up to do with regards to reading most of the nominees. But
congratulations to...
8 hours ago