Final Draft Found Under the Turf

Unfinished artwork (by Harvey Aughton)

I walked up the mottled slope

Through soft grass chilled

This hour by the winter breeze

Dark under a crescent night

The beast’s spine shone

From the belly of the mound

Moving as it does chalk

Seemed to flow through me

Nesting as a life history

I came to the eye, patch

A sink of black amidst white

Pebble stepping stones

Then blank chalk rolls aside

Rocks describe universes

As a momentum shift

Unfinished artwork (by Harvey Aughton)