Below is a sample poem from our featured poet:
The Lover in Winter Plaineth
Machines grind wind’s fangs
to flour. Piles heap
on the outskirts. I cannot see
to the edge. I creep
again to my niche. I sleep,
fingers triggered
from touching the keys.
Alders wave the river smell
into the hangar. I kneel again to scrape
gilt from illuminations
for re-use. Piles heap
on the outskirts. The outskirts
creep. An orchard could be
in the light at the end of the open hangar.
I cannot see to the edge.
I copy what the dead sang
about the fangs of the wind
though the wind had been de-fanged.
The piles. The outskirts.
I creep. I sleep.
Learn more about Brandon Krieg by visiting https://brandonkrieg.com/
Here's how to join us & Brandon Krieg online on May 7th:
- Go to https://tinyurl.com/VirtualBard
- If required, please enter the Meeting ID 759 062 6042
Sincerely,
Your friends at Berks Bards
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