Jackdaws and witches tapping watches, stripping you to the bone. Some still can't say your name without stretching all the wrong vowels. I hear your voice, I'm ankle-deep in Bluebells. My red penknife unfolds. I'm scratching your initials. * Trap-doors every Monday morning. Cornflowers, my boots are soiled. The great birds, they are clapping the … Continue reading Jackdaws & Witches #dVerse #poetry →