Post Road Magazine #17


I roved the desert, clothed but in my map.

Protected from the sun; from the cold.

I gathered water in my map. The dew

distilled itself at dawn. The new moon held

the old moon in her arms. I know. I feel

thee mine. Returned at last, my eyes sewn shut,

I tender you my dry and lovelorn tongue.


The unperceived divinity has left

the room, epiphany departed. There's

no other here among us. Woe betide

the soul that pants after the hart but waits

not for the kill. My year waxing, waxed

and waned. Conceal your knowledge of

all vain and idle songs. My heart maketh

a noise in me and that noise sounds like this.


Painting: Fountain, 2007, Oil on panel, 31.5" x 30" - Astrid Cravens
Poem: Gnosis - Lacy Schutz

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