Here lies Martes Flavigula, eternally beneath the splintered earth.

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Poems -

You wanted to leave and
you left. So here
you are with
your freedom.
You ride in
your nostalgic trams to
villages full of eidolons.
You pause for a moment and
gather the anchors
you've dragged behind
you and they threaten to
pull you to the depths
even in stillness.
They flake with rust.
You lick
your freedom from
your cracked lips
and taste solitude.
You left
your oasis
in a distant land.

Along with martens, goulish goats and the rippling fen -
these writings 1993-2023 by Bob Murry Shelton are licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

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