The Echo of What Remains Collected Poems of Wanda Lea Brayton
Bound by rough-hewn edges of the Serengeti,
they longed for Kilimanjaro's cool winds,
as poor as they could be while hiding
and hoarding their cold stones of fire.
They gathered their inheritance, swearing they would
hasten across the lion-swept grasses before this night was done,
as free as gazelles in the distant sun's drooping glare -
as far as we know,
they're still running
while those golden embers burn.
No comments:
Post a Comment