ITHURIEL'S SPEAR

 

 

Drew Fine



 
 
 
 


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By the Sea


By a tide pool’s gray rock shadow
Life full of glass clouds withering in a ripple wind
Melting to the endless span of rolling blue
Where the eyes of God perch upon a swell

Enter sweet hour of an angel
Wistful feathers sting/stabbing futile
And lace such beauty with an earthly touch

As the sun’s last glance
Beautiful as a man’s idea

Slips into the long green weeds of a simple sea
And the soldier’s souls sail endlessly
On vessels of burnt ash wood
Singing angry hymns toward a tear stained
Horizon

The white wash caresses smooth
And the day folds to a love shaped
Moon
Starving eternity with shallow memories
Of long stemmed dreams

 


 

Coming Down


I came down through towns with names of the dead.
Rode paths designed with cowards in mind.
Saw hills with eyes and trees with arms.
I came down upon days,
Again and again.

Do you remember those whiles?
Spells we set about staring at our hands while we
Spilled wishes from tipped mugs.

Do you recall those
Creatures who worked hours in stink holes of dirt and
feces?
Hour through hour.
Endless until it ended.
That was us too,
Goddamn us then.

I came down through towns,
Toiled and bruised,
Wallowed and spiteful.
Looking stoic for reasons beyond logic.
But I came down through towns.

This alone,
To me,
Proves victory is a
Pain never healed.