Next morning, the valley was covered with swans white for purity gifts of the spirit we had been searching the city with lamps rooting out complacency we found the dregs of wine in dusty cellars and people told us nothing…

Read: Swans


In the dying evening, when the sun has passed on but its memory remains you stand beside the jousting grounds and listen for sounds of war among the gilded houses The river is out of sight, so too the city…

Read: Shadows