
slipping blackthorn,
back to the gloam
to step out for a smoke
no kinsfolk, this wyrding
only feather & loam
only shadow & stone

slipping blackthorn,
back to the gloam
to step out for a smoke
no kinsfolk, this wyrding
only feather & loam
only shadow & stone

with a head full of thistle &
hands stained of woad
skating away over water to
while away a spell
with the acorn man
you probably
would not understand
that has become a given
over these near
twin scored years
and so it comes to
wander this wodewood alone
chatting with oaks
in the blackthorn
with a head full of thistle &
hands stained of woad