Crescent Garden Poem by nathan martin

stone pathed verses drain
the tails of lilacs laying winterly.

somekind of angelic resin
leaks down through the wrist

with a handful of crescent
moons i scatter my yesterdays.

as i walk through the veiled terrace of
twilight stalks my crescent silhouete
shifts and lengthens.

and the blood amongst
the withering lylacs

and the blood amongst the iris.

somehow seems to turn all of my grey
ash's into some meaning.