by Michael Shindler (August 2022)
Large Tree Group, Victoria Crowe, 1975
The branch that beats the skies
In a sickly motion
—that beats almost black in the dawn:
Its sickliness implies
a hopeless devotion
—the echo that follows the yawn.
A Thousand Lances
A thousand lances
Charging at the hour;
At Christian power;
A thousand shrouds
In crowned graves;
Over crimson waves.
Michael Shindler is a writer living in Washington, DC. His work has appeared in publications including The American Conservative, The American Spectator, National Review Online, New English Review, University Bookman, and Providence. Follow him on Twitter @MichaelShindler.
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