Nightscape

—after Georg Trakl

Late November evening, and the wind chimes
ring their hollow, four-note hymn.
A freight train brays through town.
The crickets start their gossip in the garden,
and the ginkgo's fallen fans fade to rust.
Down the street, a dog barks wildly at the stars,
while in a puddle's mirrored surface
the scythe-like moon sits silent.
Tonight, I would like to set the maple aflame,
to watch my dim shadow dance by its light.
Tunes on a Broken Harmonica
Britton Shurley
Shurley_cover

Tunes on a Broken Harmonica

Britton Shurley

Floating Wolf Quarterly Cover_wolf