Travelers Welcome

Travelers Welcome

Thursday, June 11, 2015


by Brian Burmeister

In Garsila, there are brick walls
Scarred black without roofs,
Metal cauldrons
Surrounded by piles of ash.

Good or bad or unforgivable,
The things we make and do
Always outlive us.

In Garsila, there are
No sounds, no use
For any of this.

1 comment:

  1. Powerful, haunting images here...silence and urgency. A necessary and important poem. Thank you for writing it; I'm sharing it with friends. - Laura M Kaminski