A human wanders

Will Keever

 

like the moon moves the tide; only as a side effect of circling heaven

without being able to touch the black waters underneath the dark side.

 

Through salt and furrow, with bone and pine, a paintbrush and knife climbing

stone towers, plucking eagle feathers for quills desiring to feel

 

sordid and cleansed. Therefore, all soil is hallowed ground. Therefore, grass

will grow through concrete because a human cannot stop what moves them.

 

***

Will Keever is a Brooklyn-based poet originally from the leather stocking region of New York State and currently attends Johns Hopkins University for an MS in Science Writing. Will likes to take walks in the park and pet good dogs, whom he refers to as earth angels.