Greyton

at the face of a mountain, a river without end
a weary foot i raised to drop from the edge
both a trip to the abyss
and bliss without end
i gave myself up to the whim of the wind

Greyton, womb to my writers’ soul
with paper and hope you helped me to grow

Greyton, village of charm with no end
it all started here with a flick of my pen

Tess Sulaman © 2019