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Kim Moore @kimmoorepoet.bsky.social · 14/03/2025

This beautiful poem by Katharine Towers in the latest @poetrylondon.bsky.social is just stunning.

Katharine Towers The Lark Ascending
SPRING 2025, 110
The lark ascended when my father died We sat quictly in our pews as the notes took hold of the soul, at frst tugging firmly (the soul not wanting to leave), then lifting up with X sound like a soft click. Then the lark could see cverything: the lowlands where we were crying and above the pointed bluc sky. The lark's notes were like threads or like stitches. They gathered together, then drifted apart and trickled down to start again the upward toil, carrying the soul in its extremc heaviness. The lark could sce that we werc only very small that the lowlands were flat and dull. The lark could scarcely bear the wcight of the soul but still he sang as he falteringly lifted and lapsed., falteringly lapsed and lifted Then we could not see the lark at all although we could hcar the high clcan notes which dropped down upon us like rain falling from a cloud that is not there.

Elizabeth Osmond @bethosmond.bsky.social · 14/03/2025

Absolutely love this! I think @markantonyowen.com would also ❤️ 🎶

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