Avebury Henge

 

Avesbury Henge May 2

Only things which are true come back.

Here among the stones 

And the sheep 

A veritable sheep shop of turds

My left heel 

Anointed 

Graced by shit 

And three witches 

Or wiccans 

Shaking their holy maraca

And singing hymnal tunes to a satanic gd, 

Meanwhile I rest my hands flat on the stones 

And imagine the strata of Tao 

Deep within 

Layer by layer 

The crow cawing 

A murder of crows she said 

Here one year ago 

Now things so different 

And left unsaid 

My love 

Eternal and shapeless as the wind

That which has no substance 

Can enter that which has no crevices