a fortress

a fortress

A Poem by john holt

the sound of autos

splitting the air above

the dryest stone:
it is not hard to pretend
that they are waves
of the sea instead.

to go to where there
is a rainy season, to
travel to the gates
of macbeth's castle, to
await the moor's dawn
in cloak and torchlight
with sentries and spears
and the freezing rain

© 2008 john holt


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Added on April 20, 2008

Author

john holt
john holt

college station, TX



About
I studied English literature at the University of North Texas, and now I would like to publish shorts stories while I'm becoming a school teacher. Please give my work a look, and tell me what you thi.. more..

Writing
coastal coastal

A Poem by john holt