By Patrick M. Tracy
I have stood
at the edge of the bright plain
across the good, cleared land
I have shown those fields my back
of the wood falling upon me
the dappled sun and shattered sky
the low chorus of trees
of the lonely path before me
and every step
breaks faith with something
leaving all promises undone
all ties unbound
are the wages and cost of the journey
of the beautiful silence
of the broken.
Would that this skin this frail armor atop the husk of slow departure - Would that it held against the teeth of night's maw a...
Prove this with your science, Hercules, you with your trials and madness, soaked in the blood of the vanquished. Prove this with your scien...
Have we labored within the cardboard stricture of these thoughts—that we can simply get up and walk yet another day along the road, leaving ...
The shapes of animals move against her skin in the dim light, the forest reaching out to touch the essence, sick with need like I was then, ...