Return to Ashes

by Maximilian Bowden

Artwork, “Bustle” by Holly Harris


Framed by a window,

Bright eyes cast far away,

She sits wistfully,

Contents of her trunk

Strewn across the floor.

 

The guttural scribblings of

A hundred hunched minotaurs

Up in arms, demanding wings

OR

Some familiar stain

To which fingers wander

When distant thoughts bubble

OR

Secret police files

Detailing movement

In enemy camps

 

‘I long for a world

Where the trees don’t grasp

So desperately

At the world above

And their branches sing

A less mournful tune’

 

The roar of the sea

Cold spray on eager faces

Heavy clouds darkening

Twisted hopeful smiles.

News would come today,

Something sinister

Brewing hungrily

On the continent.

 

And, yet, by the window

There is nothing left.

Those eyes can only watch

As we eat ourselves and

Distant memories burn,

Gently liberated,

By the hollow trunk’s screams


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