We have always lived on this yellow earth,
Howling at too red a moon, weeping for the lack of water.
Then each time the blood stained my heart
I felt as helpless and dry as the sand.
Field mice give birth to mice and mice become the land.
A deranged owl flies in search of a better grave.
Why don’t you build your grave on my body one day?
Trees will cast a shadow darker than the salt and eternity will sway.
The raven wanders with its black wings in the blue sky.
It can go anywhere but it lingers by circling around.
What kind of visitation from the past does it want?
I can only pray to the sky and lick the pricks on my swollen foot.
I was born with many siblings.
We grew up together by eating rotten meat.
Then one morning our mother had a fit of extreme anger.
The page you have requested is restricted to subscribers only. Please enter your username and password and click on 'Continue'.
If you have forgotten your username and password, please enter the email address you used when you joined. Your login
details will then be emailed to the address specified.
If you are already a member and have not received your login details, please email us,
including your name and address, and we will supply you with details of how to access the archived material.
If you are not a member and would like to enjoy the growing online archive of Stand Magazine
, containing poems, articles, prose and reviews,
why not subscribe
to the website today?