top of page
  • By Gleb Zavlanov

He Shudders Too

The heavens darken with a thousand crows.

Flags ripple in the wind’s lamenting sighs.

Smoke hovers ghostlike over fallen foes

Blotched over with aroused and feasting flies.

The ugly spectacle smirks back at me:

Another splendidly conducted fight.

Still, one remaining enemy runs free,

An arrogant contester of my might:

Though millions may kneel to me, I lack

True martial honor if I don’t subdue

This one my polished saber shimmers back.

It’s onI shudder, and he shudders too.

Gleb Zavlanov is a poet based in New York City.

bottom of page