Categories
Issue 2 Poetry

Dust

we are a listening poem

our throats open to blood and downpour

our hair a mess of gray and almost silver

we take to the wind and thrive in rain

find that firm level of earth and stone

seek out the heart of the murmuring fossil

back out in the 40 acres near the road

we listen ...  READ MORE

Categories
Issue 2 Poetry

The Hand of the Snake is in the Clouds