The Echo of What Remains Collected Poems of Wanda Lea Brayton
These wings shall reap
only consequences of silence since wind has left
such inconspicuous domains bereft.
Our siege is over;
swift currents will turn torn hearts
toward another. Hollow spaces unfilled by fire
will not survive to breathe another day
undone by madness, unkempt with glory.
Forage for faith among these ashes, if you must -
profusions of dry dust will pallor your song.
Festivals of unweaving will take place
in an unmarked square with no one in attendance
to deliver this coup de grace, this fait accompli,
the strange signal for brutal banquets to commence.
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