Dull throbbing twilight.
I bit my tongue so
hard it bled.
A voice spoke:
said she'll be in Europe,
unmerged.
I will be in Europe.
Take
this moment alone
to hide behind the earth.
Pain as an open door,
forward motion encouraged.
Written word repeated today:
begin your year.
Robed in fluid, and in hurt,
obsequious dead
anchored
In dusted pillars rise.
An object held motionless by the sun’s gaze.
A vital outpouring of stillness,
as ninety degrees of intensifying steps
cascade like waterfalls.
© A H Butler