Hic Locus Est Patriae Poem by Tom Billsborough
Hic Locus Est Patriae
The sky, too low for you, was torn.
The trees invaded your blood's space.
And so, Cassandra, other armies came
And nothing could survive their hot embrace.
A vase adorned the porch and he at ease
Returned and leaning on its marble, grinned.
So day went down upon the place called Trees.
Where once the day of speech, is now the night of Wind...
Wednesday, June 22, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: war
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6/2/2024 2:16:13 PM # 1.0.0.1119
yikes! it is supper time; i've been called. must go. i may return? bri :)
It's supper time and the living is easy... da de da.. hope it's something special, Bri