First step: Follow the path of least resistance
through knotted grass, unkempt,
dried from the past season.
Wind around back
behind desolate monuments
erected once to the might of man.
Shifted ground, cracked court.
The power of green—
advantageously reclaiming its land
through rips in the three-point zone
of the concrete arena.
At the heart of this wrecked military shrine,
a circle, girded by neglected trees.
A sacred spot,
tucked away,
forgotten,
on which to plant the flag,
build the spiral.
Begin the Journey.
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1 comment:
oh darling. this is lovely. so *true* -- i mean, pure, wholly captured.
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