yet they still storm the beeches (Remove filter)
blacksmith (04/10/2016)
hammered out;
pings and clangs, deflating form and
memory, leaving
withered, cracked
quenched and wracked
pushed to cartage destined for greener pastures
the place hitchikers come from
cutting deeper switchbacks
lost along the way, arriving here
to bellow and forge the truth
'ship it back -- ' tearlids salty and true,
a biting brine of ground molars;
a sleeplessness
'for god's sak...
Monday 11th April 2016 12:57 am
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