Twilight blooded meadow. I climbed to breathe pinon soaked air. Each stone was stabbed. Below, the citadel surveyed the vale it ruled. Rubble from the uplifted earth. Magpies. The sound of my shoes on lichen-scabbed rocks tore the mute wind. Crowfeathered aspen pierced a molten orb. These shut lids held brief warmth. Dark, swollen juniper. Sudden chills. I spat echoes down sharp and veined arroyos. Cables far from that vermilion. Groundless, fused memory breaks its circuit when video cliffs discharge false colour. My eyes avert patterns of specks that can only flicker the shredded face of a stolen, crimson home.
Reason for writing:
Sadness when reminded of home.
Birth sign: Not entered
You need to log in to edit this poem if it is yours.
View more poems by S. Kevin Wojtaszek, Orion..