r c dewinter
Looking up into the blank slate of night sky.
I’m an immigrant without a map. A dictionary.
Canicula, unseen, barks a warning I cannot interpret
as it echoes across the ages.
I’m an immigrant without a map, a dictionary,
a lost Cassandra silenced in the darkness of ignorance.
As it echoes across the ages
Canicula’s message is a sounding brass, more felt than heard.
A lost Cassandra, silenced in the darkness of ignorance,
I fear for the future.
Canicula’s message is a sounding brass, more felt than heard.
My skin prickles as I sit, shivering, in the grip of the unknown.
I fear for the future.
Canicula, unseen, barks a warning I cannot interpret.
My skin prickles as I sit, shivering in the grip of the unknown,
looking up into the blank slate of night sky.
***
R C deWinter’s poetry is widely anthologized, notably in New York City Haiku (New York Times, February 2017), Cowboys & Cocktails (Brick Street, April 2019), Nature In The Now (Tiny Seed Press, August 2019), Coffin Bell Two (March 2020), in print in 2River, Adelaide, Event, Genre Urban Arts, Gravitas, Kansas City Voices, Meat For Tea: The Valley Review, the minnesota review, Night Picnic Journal, Prairie Schooner, Southword, among others and appears in numerous online literary journals.