This poem is taken from Stand 244, 22(4) December 2024 - February 2025.
Dipper
The river’s slow ebb spilled you
into the light – bubble-breast,
plipping in then out under
the mossy edges, dabbling, buoyed,
wading amongst the froth. I waited
...
into the light – bubble-breast,
plipping in then out under
the mossy edges, dabbling, buoyed,
wading amongst the froth. I waited
...
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