Christine Blackwood


Over sands dry, flicker
bone dust mirages
of turrets, of parapets,
Cradle secrets from midnight
fingers moonlined hushed


Wait til dawn, papyrus
walls breathe,
Wait ankle shrouded in sand,
In sun sweat, desiccated
desert flower


Wait til bronze gates
crumble, cave
to time’s slow gangrenous


Til flesh dust drifts sunlight
suspended in shafts
fluted as dry bones,
mouth open to hunger
to marvel
at gilded secrets torn
cities underground.

Euphemism Campus Box 5555 Illinois State University Normal, IL 61790