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Pan

November 10, 2019

 

... Among the shadows of the groaning elms,           

amid the darkening oaks, we fled ourselves ...

 

... Once there were paths that led to coracles

that clung to piers like loosening barnacles ...

 

... where we cannot return, because we lost

the pebbles and the playthings, and the moss ...

 

... hangs weeping gently downward, maidens’ hair

who never were enchanted, and the stairs ...

 

... that led up to the Fortress in the trees

will not support our weight, but on our knees ...

 

... we still might fit inside those splendid hours

of damsels in distress, of rustic towers ...

 

... of voices of the wolves’ tormented howls

that died, and live in dreams’ soft, windy vowels ...

 

Published by The Chariton Review

 

 

Michael R. Burch is the editor of The HyperTexts, on-line at www.thehypertexts.com, where he has published hundreds of poets over the past twenty years. His poetry has been translated into eleven languages and set to music by three composers. A five-time Pushcart nominee, his poems, translations and essays have appeared in hundreds of literary journals, including Light Quarterly, The Lyric, Measure, Iambs & Trochees, Blue Unicorn, The Chariton Review, The Chimaera, Able Muse, Lucid Rhythms, Poem Today, Asses of Parnassus, Writer’s Digest—The Year’s Best Writing and The Best of the Eclectic Muse.

 

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