Barbed wire (poem)
There's a castle on a mountain peak that gazes at the horizon line. It's sharp, reflecting bursting reds across waters flaked with wire. There's rust on bell towers and stains flooding sinks and streets. The princess is cold in her bed, basking in the second hands ticking away the promise of warm sun rays on the horizon. This kings throne, who peeks through glass at the waters edge, cannot see the dangers that linger beneath the surface. She can no longer await the morning glow and chases the wire beneath the tide. Chasing the warm red of the sunrise.
Because I couldn’t stop for death, he kindly stopped for me, the carriage held but just ourselves and immortality. We slowly drove, he knew no haste and I had put away my labor and leisure too, for his civility. We passed the school where children strove at recess in the ring, we passed the fields of gazing grain, we passed the setting sun, or rather he passed us. We paused before a house that seemed a swelling of the ground, the roof was scarcely visible, the cornice in the ground.