Warm Horizon Dawn
Written: January 02, 2026, For Brian Strand contest
******************
last clean—distilled
morning shards
in the skyline’s teeth—
a city chewing innocence away.
yet in steam,
in blue-light bruises,
a filament of verse hums.
the world scrolls
into a grave of souls,
kindness sold,
humanity dragging its shadow
through aisles of extinction.
but poetry—
feral, unbought—
rises in the throat
of the dying century.
I praise the fracture
where truth leaks,
the wound that sings anyway.
let it be the last clean thing
in a species
smearing its own shadow.
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