Holocene – a poem by Robert Ford

Holocene The shoreline has no recollection of the ice; only the genetic memory of suffocation, smothering, of cold, silent fingers playing at the clay of the Earth, sundering rocks. There are only echoes, hearsay, the whisper of older waters – receded, replenished – forests, hills, a whole continent swallowed below. Becoming a pixel in the […]

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