Joseph Gant, 04/12

Decades Gone (for 1996)


it was there, one million years ago,
where everything of nature in us
died along the way.
we put it down in stone
beneath a star-lit newborn sky;
the season never changed to watchers
standing on the mile; it was forever May and morning
would not dare to break— an atmosphere of foreign
of the dream.
and I pledged a heart on all I knew
as sacred in the world.
my cemetery prom-queen, crowned by night’s oblivion—
the constellations came to know us,
drew the lines defining every star that burned between us
in the tremors and the cold.

Promote. Poetry.
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