Megalith (Homage to the Macedonian poet Mateja Matevski)
The forests have shrunk back to the forest
holed up with the howl
of the last wolf -
the sound of time dying.
The seas have drained back to Sargasso
soup-thick with their dead:
the stench of time threshing.
And some of the old stones dragged and stood up
at the flinty beginning of hatred
by the river that once was
still stand, only half-wrecked,
their fissures expressionless.
poem by Anthony Weir
Added by Poetry Lover
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