POETRY: Yugo in toad form by Daniel Jones



The weight of the sky
being flat around the middle,
pulled in on itself,
a gamble against clouds
discoloured sounds
circled by silvered  flocks  miming the effect of flight

an equation figured out
in the silhouette of a sentence
a game really
harvest
gathered
no yoke.

And none wiser
where was all the writing when we
wondered why
went from
place to place and
kneaded the ground
never knowing if the water was
divine or not.