Solstice: Kelston Roundhill

The Kelston Laureate Jon Hamp sends us these words:


The gate latch
falling lifts the head.
Antlers reach to touch the veil
resting soft against it.

The key is entered, upside down.
Lock turns, and time
breathes outward, through
to somewhere else.

And gently, dust and antlers
sift downward through the mesh.

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