The Ancient Modern

Wounded Reaching  /  Joshua Alan Sturgill         

I know I know
I do not know
a bleeding hand
a beggar’s bowl

a river bed
in Winter, dry
clenched with drought
the deer pass by

wounded, reaching
truth through thorns
trembling legs
tangled horns

I know I know
I blindly reach
I never know
I never cease

All poetry and supplementary material: copyright 2022 by Joshua Alan Sturgill. All rights reserved.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s