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kjkjk
by Derek Scefonas

Myself I know
for I sit underneath this Felled tree
which some have called a pit
yet you
often enter my thoughts
like a stance taken by the warrior
or a wall of a citadel
steadfast
true
like a rumor
we, the remaining stones
sometimes wary to soar
yet we, the wielder of iron must rise
like couples finely dressed
and rest upon this pointed steel
for we are the ghosted -running too
where are we running
I said rock
past tents
as the battle grows and while my friends dwindle(not you)
I soar

About the Author:
Derek Scefonas lives in Boulder, Colorado, and likes the cold. He may be contacted at scefonas@hotmail.com.

 
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