Wednesday, June 28, 2006

I've just written a new poem influenced by a strange and striking painting I sketched and might make into a full picture. Here it is:

It's What We're All Thinking

Through the tall vacant lanes
see a rust blown sky.
Hear the cries of the wind
kiss a skeleton's eye.

Crisp like moths underfoot,
feel the dust of the dead.
The dried blood of the war
that was long ago led.

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