Songs For Georgia: #6 Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

Georgia, the encumbered moon is upon us
I can hear the hoarse cries of the shadows
That linger by the pavements -
The thickets of their sighs,
The rivulets of their pangs
Fulminate like the last prying flower of death.

Even the hounds grow anxious
And the night’s intoxicating promise
Is baffled by the pretentious glaze of the moon
But we will never falter
For we’ve exhausted the wind that fans the flame,
We’ve mutilated the warden that manipulates this game
Nothing is left underneath the stark night

Only you, Georgia
And your symphonies.