Crystal Stream It lives. Lake water lapping along low strides longing for an estranged sea, a tear-soaked mother turned face away from desperate plea. It slithers. Round mountain bends and furtive dens winded through, swathing soil and parting green grass with river blue. It runs. On brisk journey leaking forth amid pebble and rubble, eyes widen at a sight cool-crimson, legs bend double. It shivers. Greedy mouths’ quiver when leering near, a choir drawn to the crystal streamed chorus clear. It weeps. Down the canyon’s parched throat, its end aborning, arid azure skies shy away in mourning. It dies. Cries unheard facing nothing but a mother’s shun, while children splashed out into a rage of boiling sun.
Giuseppe Gillespie – January 2022
Cover Pic: The Sad Girl by Sarah Purser c. 1923