Friday, October 20, 2017

Joshua 5: In Writing

After passage,
a wall.

Look back.
You cannot see the river
cannot see the mountain
cannot see the plain, the low scrub
the bush burning.

No rising mist
no falling bread--
fragile as frost
golden honey, melting like that first flake of snow--
can you still feel its damp
in the sunbaked earth

the ripening gold wheat?

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