Songs For Georgia: #4 Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

And sometimes, Georgia
I can hear you break and shatter
Regardless of this transatlanticism.
I wonder how the seraphs look at you
When you weep like a morose river.
The darkness engulfs the aperture
And the light of dawn is scant.
The trees bend to your desolation.

I can feel your words sever themselves
Until they are disemboweled
The tremors of your dispositions,
Your quivering timidly, your mild gasps for life
Are beautifully done in such an eloquent saudade.
And I remain there,
Eavesdropping as I am pressed upon your bastion,
Wondering if you would let me in.