Poem | American Émigré

 

The fence that wrapped our field has collapsed from bolting horses & the steady weight of winter. Barbs no longer snag our jeans or bloody our hands when we flee the burning that is home. Small signal fires light the hills red. Another country somewhere out there promises a peace it cannot possibly keep. Repeat after me:  the cities we’ll build on the ruin of other cities will shimmer & shine before they fall.

Published in the December 1, 2017 issue: 
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John Sibley Williams is the author of nine poetry collections, most recently Disinheritance. A seven-time Pushcart nominee and winner of various awards, John serves as editor of the Inflectionist Review.

Also by this author
Two Poems by John Sibley Williams

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