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Abide

abide, poetry, steven humphreys, poetry madness

To you

in the valleys

down there

abide

the tide

will not turn

roll in your grass

wipe your eyes

go to your high hills

and come home at

sunset

shade yourself

under the poplar

pass not

abide

go to your glade

it’s a misty day

but it is clear

what you’ve

been told

lost in the

luminous crowd

you have

your duty

haunted

by thoughts

of your own

mortality

from the plains

to the tall reeds

the green ferns

shadow

every

myriad

yearn

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