← v6n2, Fall 2007Poetry · Volume 6, Number 2
Tomorrow
The metaphysics of the quotidian was what he was after:
A little dew on the sunrise grass,
A drop of blood in the evening trees,
a drop of fire.
If you don’t shine you are darkness.
The future is merciless,
everyone’s name inscribed
On the flyleaf of the Book of Snow.
