Paul Stevens
STONEHENGE
The wind flowed cold as a glacier across Salisbury Plain
As we circled the circling circles of stone upon stone,
Where the antic lines of earth channeled and gathered
To relay energy free down the sacred avenue—
But sliced now, disconnected by fence and motorway,
Dispersed by the pulse of helicopter rotors beating,
Bruising our sky, tin insects supervising,
Bristling, twitching over the land of fear.
This patterned placement once engaged the bare plain
With heaven, and looped power to the cosmos beyond,
Grafting us whole to the numinous constellations.
Now the wind washes across us, relentlessly cold,
Pushing icy tears from my eyes; from my mind
Behind, some kind of anachronistic grief.
Paul Stevens was born in Yorkshire, England but lives in Australia. He has an Honours degree in English from the University of Sydney and teaches Literature. He has published poems and prose in print and pixel, most recently in The Literary Bohemian, Soundzine, Mannequin Envy, CounterPunch, qarrtsiluni, The Barefoot Muse, London Poetry Review, Abyss and Apex, Autumn Sky Poetry, Lucid Rhythms, The HyperTexts, Ourobouros, Shakespeare's Monkey Revue, The Centrifugal Eye, Shattercolors, Poemeleon, New Verse News and Umbrella. He edits The Chimaera.
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