Saturday, November 28, 2015

Ribbons, Volume 11, Number 3, Fall 2015

Going Back

big sky morning
ancestral homesteads
felled by wind
hollow bones whistling
songs I used to know

down washboard roads
between fields
plumes of the past lingering
on all I left behind

at day's end
light beams splintering
across shorn fields
on this moonless night
I, too, am camouflaged

No comments:

Post a comment