The Measure

October rains;
I found a tape-measure
Underneath my pillow.
You placed it underneath
My dreams’ verses
Which revert to dramaturgic
Heathlands and dried,
Harvested high-hung wheat
In faded, yellow sheaves,
Kernels cradling hope
Like a jaundiced newborn
Baby in the arms
Of a nurse’s labours
Which are as wide as heaven,
As firm as a popular truth,
And that is the measure
Of how far our love
Endured and endeavoured
To find one another,
Over the thirteen seas
And under a gabled roof,
A pillow filled with straws
Which fall from the hearts
Of winnowing stars.

2 thoughts on “The Measure

  1. Oh my gosh, Nick. This is so beautiful (truly!) in its imagery, tone, and message (and diction that made me drool) and so well-crafted, too. “Winnowing stars…” winnowing was powerful, stars winnowing is profound. This moved me so much, I’m moving it into my all-time favorites. (Insert starry-eyed and heart-eyed emojis) ❤

    Liked by 1 person

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