Further still, into the pagesThen unwritten, now scripted boldThough more revealed, less comprehendedAs along twisted paths I blindly hold Slow but steady the sand has leftFoundations sloped, with hole and crackThe burning rain tears through the treesAnd smears the walls and windows black Like a boat, without a skipperFull throttle, paths uncharted pavesPounded by surge … Continue reading Easter of Nineteen →