Poetry and Photography by Bill Davies

Rhythm of the Round (Or Home)

To look outside the realm of man
the song almost forgotten
Is it lost upon a dying race
who cannot find the rhythm
round and deep
that even little birds repeat?

Then call upon the prayer
that's green and blue
so sleeping gods may hear

A prayer that great spheres align
like links of chain combine
and move this space called time
to another shinning
rhythm round that rhymes