by L.M. Browning, from the forthcoming collection, Drive Through the Night
Dancing with the dust devils
across the land of dazzling desolation
I seize freedom by unearthing
the beauty in the vanishing
nature of all that is vital.
Knowing that I will survive
the death of all I hold dear,
and howl upon the alter
as the pyre burns,
the soul churns,
and the body yearns
for what is now ash.
Recent Poetry Posts
I hear the voice of god in the hum of the neon sign at the rest stop, where the caravan of displaced desperadoes and expats post-up for the bottomless cup of coffee….
Be gentle long night, I don’t belong here. Thrown to the wolves, I shifted nocturnal.
In a land beyond the pervading dark,
in a state beyond the fever-pitch…