Steven P. Croat

Steven P. Croat Poems

The night ticking
and dissolved into silver dust.
This second can be the last.
...

Everywhere I turn
two eyes look at me...
I just slowly burn
in trouble. I can´t see
...

The hoar-spirited bushes hide and lie...
The old glacier of the ice sky
Wears the hard coffin of chill.
The moon feels cold. It becomes ill.
...

The Best Poem Of Steven P. Croat

Ash

The pine forest must
burn to the ground for new
trees to grow from ash.

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