A bath of unreal light,
fathomless sky watches intently as
A game is played
on the banks of his river.
The tide swells and erodes,
the earth which I take for certain
will always be there
to sustain me-
maintain an us.

To the west son, a gathering of sorts.
Ideals of a modern man
a modern love a-
Violent wreckage of glass and cinder.
How we search for an escape only to gather
and share our dis-pleasure for the
cities we flee,
family we flee,
lives we flee.

The sand throbs here,
where I stand.
Man sounds in a distance behind me,
The dark silence ahead,
the silence I long for.
The moon rises from its green dwelling
as I descend into the water
and cross to the fertile ground of
an unknown.

The opposing shore adopts my weary body.
Head hung high, a breath of importance,
the hurt of exploit.
The body nourished in water
where salt and
purity combine,
where man and
nature collide.
An essential, undeserved.

Medea whispers for a sacrifice.
I dig my hands into the earth,
and admire the contrasting sand
of ebony and gold that tells of
the history and the-
hell of this paradise.
I bury a fear to silence her,
and hope
our children will find this of some value.

Evan Kinkel