Friday, August 03, 2018

Atlas Poetica, Number 33, July 2018

our canoe
noses through mist . . .
a new day
opens before us
into possibility


an old dory
grounded on a sandbar,
its faded flag
the listless reminder
of my pirate dreams


a yellow leaf
lets go of the tree . . .
she held on
long past the time
for surrender


ancient graves
sink into marshland . . .
the long bones
of our ancestors
wandering, still

No comments:

Post a Comment