Giants- A poem.

When the mountains are devoured
by the soft, white tongue
of the sky, the world ceases to exist

for a moment. Everything is erased—
and I am isolated, a tiny lake
surrounded by land.

Only magic could do this, but I know
that magic doesn’t exist.
Not really.

But tell that to the mountains,
swimming in the belly of the sky
and waiting to be broken
into hail.

Featured image by Jacob Kolasch.

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Categories: poetry

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