Crossroads

 

These bastions of those that come and go, each person to

their own choice of direction, could appear as castles.

Buildings stand to their appointed corners, lattice works

of red brick and mortar, like a crown of thorns upon a brow

that hangs its head in weary pain and abuse.

Bartizans at each corner made of carefully fitted stone,

towers of the guard to watch over the voyager who rests within.

At some crossroads there have been planted trees, perhaps in

winter covered with snow and not easily seen.  Their roots run

beneath the road and the traveler’s feet.  The roots lie beneath

each branch of the junction giving them support, giving them life.

 

published in Our Twentieth Century’s Greatest Poems, April, 1982.

*

Just a quick comment of “Vanity Presses”.  I imagine this does sort of count as a publication, it is in my portfolio towards the back.  I do not think of it as a particularly good poem, but it is gathering dust on some library shelf someplace and will never see the light of day again.   The company that published it, World of Poetry, out of Sacramento, CA expects to make money off of people buying this volume to give to friends and relatives, that sort of thing.  I doubt that anybody else in the academic or literary community has ever seen it.  This is not a publication that is going to get a writer any exposure.

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About johnsmithiiimxiii

John Smith, IIMXIII is the avatar of an award winning poet, artist, etc. who still lives in the Palouse country of the Pacific NW. He has not received much notice with his prose . . . but as his avatar, I hope that he keeps plugging along.

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