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Picture 10034101, © Mary Evans Picture Library/Lionel Coates

Knotted Moss
by Noah Smith
 
 
Come lye in bed of knotted moss
Come lye your head on pitted rock
Feel the dying feel the wet of rot

Not far from here I traced an
Ancient path through concrete sets
Felt the tug of the pulling dead

See I caught a trace of fleeing
Wonder unable to let it pass
Lest be made a drone not being

Let it seep drip run pool smother
Hidden released other
Will find its way before too long

History remains too proud
To leave itself unnoticed
It wills its secrets overground.

© Noah Smith

 

Picture 10034101, © Mary Evans Picture Library/Lionel Coates

 

Noah Smith poet
Writer and artist also
London home and blood

More of Noah’s writing can be found on his substack: Noah’s Writing.

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