Hereafter

sanchopanzalit
Feb 5, 2022
1 min read

Anthony Paticchio

Worn knowledge rests in a cleft

in the brow,

beats time against the heart’s intent,

seeks the vein that empties out

its crown, stills its hard desire

for permanence.

Once found, let go,

given up to the blood torrent

bearing it away,

it forgets again, seals up the rift again,

surrenders itself to time again,

lies still in sleep again.

Recent Posts

See All

Their Final Ascent

Ken Massicotte In their final days climbing to mass each morning the stone steps worn with prayer the studded oak doors, the nave safety from all disquiet vaulting the cleansing

Monday Morning

Daniel P. Stokes I unfold my chair to face the sun, but something’s out of kilter. Before I settle down to pad and pen, I have it twigged. There. That stream of water falling to the

Aubade

Andrew Alexander Mobbs I see them through the window just before sunrise as I’m washing last night’s dishes, three glowing orbs cutting through the slate fog from the far side of the vast, crow-flecke

Comments