Circling Infernos

Meet me if you can in the silence
between variegated walls of earth
whose surfaces crumble and contaminate
I won’t inhale

Here are dry thorns uprooted like gold teeth
their seeds germinate – branch – blossom
as spent bodies mulch and seep beneath concrete
to decompose new drafts

March with me through circles built by human hands
infernos of trench and gas chamber
atom and napalm searing out of the blue
aircraft turned missile

Imagine our homes with their loved faces in ruins
circled only by poets

Come excavate while we can the shards of stone and bone
that sift through cupped hands into a glass case
recover memories that hang from an out of date calendar
a misplaced abacus that measured moons in unhatched eggs

Help sound a bell to guide lost causes that still might save our souls
witness open minds branded heretic
exiled to snake across alien lands
trafficked where sharks feed

Tell me if you can why breaking hearts don’t crack circles

Mori Glaser spent her earliest years in Singapore, grew up in the UK, and moved to Israel 35 years ago.

Her poetry and flash have appeared in various journals and anthologies, including Eunoia ReviewThe Alexandria ReviewUnbrokenVine Leaves Literary Journal: a collection of vignettes from across the globe; Between the Lines’ anthology, Fairy Tales and Folklore Re-imagined; Akashic Books web series Thursdaze; The Molotov Cocktail’s 2017 Shadow Award (3rd prize).

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1 Response to Circling Infernos

  1. Tribal gypsy says:

    these are some seriously tragic images now imbeded in my membranes I am sure they will creep into my dreams at night.. good work

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