Tyburn

 

Tyburn

 

The crossroads

Build layers of decisions

And every one is a crisis where

the gibbeted hang waiting

their bit of earth

what skeleton wouldn’t be happier

in that ownership of dirt

rather than

the sky flapping black

with great wings

pensive

unable to give rest

I look long

Arteries on either side

And where will I be carried

Next

While far from you

I can not see where the horizon

Sweeps itself up from the trees

All of it is

Nameless space

And it drifts untied

Like a beggar

My crime was having a bowl

Too small to fill with you

And you having too little hunger

To pursue

 

Reviews

[Legion]

Well done. Very poetic. Those last few lines really make the piece stand out. Kudos.