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Poem – The Sky is Burning
The black sky of antiquity replaced by what we do not know what we fear. In the depths of thought do we remember the ancient rituals and sacrifice at the base of each tree, at the shoreline, at our fingertips? The burning sky approaches from the south, consuming what we do not know what we…
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What Else
I stand before the great mirror of antiquity trying desperately, almost in vain, to understand what I see and where this came from, what process created that face and expression, the eyes peering back at me and the questions, so full of questions. I stand before Blackstone glacier and the refelction has changed, so too…