Tag: Andrew Wachtel

Abyssal Like a whole winter. Like Bruegel in the snow with hunters,and kennels of barking dogs.In deep barbarism, in the depths of perpetuity,in the fury of flames, February lasts for years. Dead.But its shadow lives.And I grow in its shadow like bitter grass,unable to shatter the fetters of ice, listening your breath, my sadness.My sadness:…