Listen: She dreamt the sky
and settled a few strange feet
above this shattered axeland.
She floated there for ages
and pilgrims came and rubbed
their names with clumsy fingers
in the dirt. Their names vanished
like the rolling highway scenery
outside your half-down window,
like your tears drying in the wind
as you fled from town to town.
—
Magpie Tales #219 | Sunday Whirl #160
James Brush is a teacher and writer who lives in Austin, TX. He tries to get outside as much as possible.
Oh my. This is a perfect expression for these words. Images of several students I’ve served rose in my thoughts while reading this, and for that I thank you on a deep soul level.
I’m so glad to hear that this spoke to you.
love this.
Evocative and lovely…
This is so very beautiful.
A very belated thank you, all.