Bones of Rainbows

 These are the stones,

 Where hooded scavengers

 Each day pick apart the

 Bones of rainbows,

 The distances that

  Halted the march of

Empire’s greedy ambition;

That defined a nation,

 The place where the comeback

 That ended in nought,

  Began to generate excitement.

  But the breathing here,

  The tales that were born here

And weave, like treacle smoke,

 In and out of lost eagle winds

And wool-hung rushes were

 Worth it all …

 Worth it all

 And so much more.

24/5/2013 (Birdoswald Fort)

Tags: Hadrian's Wall, History, lost eagle, poem, poems, poetry, poetry blog, poetry writing, poets, poets corner, winds, writing, writing poetry