#poetry
Cassandra, Lost
Looking up into the blank slate of night sky.
I'm an immigrant without a map. A dictionary.
Canicula, unseen, barks a warning I cannot interpret
as it echoes across the ages.
Cassandra, Lost
Looking up into the blank slate of night sky.
I'm an immigrant without a map. A dictionary.
Canicula, unseen, barks a warning I cannot interpret
as it echoes across the ages.
I'm an immigrant without a map, a dictionary,
a lost Cassandra silenced in the darkness of ignorance.
As it echoes across the ages
Canicula's message is a sounding brass, more felt than heard.
a lost Cassandra silenced in the darkness of ignorance.
As it echoes across the ages
Canicula's message is a sounding brass, more felt than heard.
A lost Cassandra, silenced in the darkness of ignorance,
I fear for the future.
Canicula's message is a sounding brass, more felt than heard.
My skin prickles as I sit, shivering, in the grip of the unknown.
I fear for the future.
Canicula's message is a sounding brass, more felt than heard.
My skin prickles as I sit, shivering, in the grip of the unknown.
I fear for the future.
Canicula, unseen, barks a warning I cannot interpret.
My skin prickles as I sit, shivering in the grip of the unknown,
looking up into the blank slate of night sky.
© 2019 RC deWinter
Published in @coffin_bell, Volume 3, Issue 4, November 2020
Canicula, unseen, barks a warning I cannot interpret.
My skin prickles as I sit, shivering in the grip of the unknown,
looking up into the blank slate of night sky.
© 2019 RC deWinter
Published in @coffin_bell, Volume 3, Issue 4, November 2020
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