, , , , , , , , , , , ,

Fragments Not of Crows, Nor of the Flesh

“Dreams from the highway of night/

the insect engine arching over water/

Upon asphalt, the salt of the evening’s words/

I have never been lonelier/

Loved by absence/adoring the dead/

in the new May warmth/ all the caution signs

Along the pilgrimage of sorrows/blooming. ”