Magi On The Frontier Poem by Aaron Graham

The Weak Corner of a Picture's Splintered Frame
Part III ~ Magi on the Frontier
The raw edge of this Attic land that managed
To carve but a small notch in the Aether.
For a civilization that could not survive-
Today's trial- to see
Tomorrow's promises fulfilled. Are remembered,
In terms of yesterday's antiquity
Yesterday. Today. Tomorrow.
From the barren, failed culvert's desolation
To the resting place of tired deities
To a dead and dying frontier;
Forms a triangle, and if a triangle
Create the base of a pyramid,
Ziggurat- housing sizzling, cryptic serpents
Their voice echoes in the ear of my Genesis, 'Zanadu! '
Reminding only of what I've failed to create
With my temporal words.