The Guest Poem by David Bayless
The Guest
The Guest
I have not traveled nor traversed
Found no space in empty verse.
Tears bleed the cries of a dead man.
Sand does fall in the grip of a loose hand.
How can that with no location find its way upon the land
Lost, forgotten; the refusal of decay.
Exhaling a whisper the horizon has saved.
She comes with the invitation
Through her I reach my destination.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/28/2026 3:28:18 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
