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the heath, hampstead 6 am

24 Mar
tears of morning dew, frost

tears of morning dew, frost

note: I have been walking the Heath in Hampstead during the early mornings. Today, as I refflected on John 19:28 ‘I am thirsty’ I saw and felt the the ground in the sun’s rays shining, in light. My Lord Jesus, who thirsted, created this Heath, this dew. All drink from His well. We drink cleanly in, from, His waters. Here is the piece, the poem I wrote

the grey baby gap hat with
yellow planes
on
either side
hangs
on a fallen tree post

a few paces up
a Baby Blue teething ring lies open
face up crying for
a mouth,
perhaps, hers? my charlotte?

the Heath absorbs all
dogs,
their masters
the frost; the sun, an ale can, from, perhaps,
Keats’ and his night of drinking when he
wrote
‘that I might drink, and leave the world unseen,
/and with thee fade away into the forest dim:’

fade, fade my Heath, fade

me