leave
their runic offprint of an
autograph
on thawing snowbanks
“whose
meltwaters go down loquacious
in
torques, in curdlings, cadenzas
by
the earful.”— Amy Clampitt, “Runes, Blurs, Sap Rising,” in The Collected Poems of Amy Clampitt (2011)
The image accompanying this post shows the brook near my house.
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