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The Traveler
Man is a being of distances. –Jean-Paul Sartre
1 This asylum is emerald green not white and the walls have a convex feel. I have run my fingers along its skin felt the pores. It lives as I breathe.
2 Walking at night
the great live oaks slowly pull me toward shadows
their huge limbs a thousand hands hiding light
I hear faint whispers— do not go your place is here take hold.
Published in the Rattlesnake Review
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“Sleepwalker” silk-screen by Carol Buchman |
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eMail: David / ©2008 David Crews. All rights reserved. |