Great Men

There are no great men left
in the world; a winter tree
devoid of leaf or birds, several
clouds captured in its branches.
Who will answer our questions or
pull the snow down? How will we
find the way back to the cold,
shallow grave we were born in?


Lesley-Anne Evans said...

I've never posted a link to another blog… but your work is brilliant and resonates deeply within me. So, I hope you don't mind that I drew attention to you in my own poetry blog. If you'd rather I didn't, I can certainly take it down.

Thank you for your words, once again.


Rachel Phillips said...

Thank you Lesley-Anne, it is wonderful that you enjoy my work enough to put it on your blog!