last week he disappeared
carving stubbled tracks
into familiar countryside
throwing gold dust at the sun
and hours later found himself
a memory of what had grown
on strange roads sixty miles from home
and stood through wind and rain
not knowing where he was, or why
a distant Combine gathers grain
Published by colinhopkirk
Poet, writer, artist. Writing and performing in England, publishing anywhere. Member of Hexameter performing poets. Workshops, projects, cross-arts collaborations.
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Colin Hopkirk Poetry 