Liberat.es
Peel-the-Bones - #NaPoWriMo22 Day 3
Alone and haggard
– step after step,
loose stones wedged
in sandal crevices.
The bitter wind chills
the cheeks—numb in a
way that screams,
I am alive!
Waves crash—is that a
mist hitting the right
side as the path carries
one further?—
the rhythm of the
ocean. This land longs
to be remembered by
bodies descended from
those who left.
Step after step, the
End in sight.
Maybe Druids worshiped
Her here.
At long last, the fires
are coming. It’s time
to remember.
It’s time to dance.