ANCIENT THING

 

You can bury only bone,
battered and broken,
with a rose to bounce
upon the cut of the coffin,
but this ancient thing
that sways day into night
will not wither as our flesh
falls from the light.
Into the open earth
we cast our demise
as time turns onwards,
even in a box of stilled eyes.

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

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