Atonal Antiphon Amok
Throughout the ages an aching sigh,
dispersed by waves on rabid seas which only splutter,
swept up by gusts that mask a cry which disappears
across the nettle voids,
this raw dispatch of fatal wound backlog,
atonal antiphon amok,
a caution light epistle
back in time to be quenched by secret language never heard.
Copyright © Howard Kerr | Year Posted 2020
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