Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Poetry Fusillade, pt 18: Canoeist
We took the canoes
To the place that had burned
That inferno went on
Deluged from planes.
Paper-thin blackness
Crumbles beneath me
The remnants of birch.
New York, City
Of Jack Pines.
We took the canoes
To the place that had burned
That inferno went on
Deluged from planes.
Paper-thin blackness
Crumbles beneath me
The remnants of birch.
New York, City
Of Jack Pines.
