Ploughing at Nightfall
by Colin OliverOriginal Language English
The hill lights burn like a fuse.
The magpie flies the hedgerow
white, white, white.
The tractor roars down its beam,
the plough glowing.
And, pressing on the small door of the self,
the night's immense emptiness
comes falling in.
-- from Stepping Into Brilliant Air, by Colin Oliver |
<<Previous Poem | More Poems by Colin Oliver | Next Poem >>
View All Poems by Colin Oliver
Recommended Books: Colin Oliver
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
||
The Longing in Between: Sacred Poetry from Around the World (A Poetry Chaikhana Anthology) | Stepping Into Brilliant Air | Nothing But This Moment | ||