Mercator
Brittle map—
unfamiliar names
scrawled legend
color bled compass
tattered corners
seeking wind.
Beyond serpents & charts
lies a paradise—
or desert, or ruins,
or a mistaken ghost of Hope
skirting like a cloud before the sun, tinged red with embarrassment.
Reach for the rails
of water’s fear cage.
2 thoughts on "Mercator"
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I love the tension throughout, the imperative ending throwing up, the juxtaposition of the hope of the journey and the feeling of being caged. It was well worth having to look up “Mercator.”
Beginning each stanza with B-words and shifting to R-words in the last one-write on!