He stands on a barren hilltop;
Snow falling on churned ground,
Salted, sown with ashes.
Sweat sits upon his brow;
A moment of reverie,
Spent among the silence.
Still crows gaze from their perch;
Seem by none,
They can see all.
KnaisGuy KnaisGuy
26-30, M
Aug 22, 2014