Today's poem is by John Fry
[now that we're lost at last]
whispers someone or thing
inside: fell of darkbefore, resurrected, days
climb under the city of nohills sans serif
save for the crookedmesquite patience
that built a Babelskyward thunder drums
heaven's sheet metal veilasunder lightning's pentecostal
&tongued already our wordswere furrow-flung
seeds asleep among flint(Bible broke open)
bedrock dreamt dragonteeth paleolithic arrowheads
floodwater, remembering, finds
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Copyright © 2018 John Fry All rights reserved
from With the Dogstar as My Witness
Orison Books
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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