Bloom of Tombs

Photo: Michael Haida. CC0/Public Domain license.

[[ Find me there
in the Bloom of Tombs. ]]

Gloom was inherent, inherited maybe — they told of children drowned in gene pools { (( . )) } I was baptized there for the Savior’s grace : some told there was room in his borders.

| ~ | But that looming thing, the arresting blessing ;; it could not be stripped from a soul. I implored the scores of scathing thoughts — they quipped all biting, waned wit.

And so unsated, the womb called back // “Safety so numberless,” she whispered. All amniotic — the ego amnestic — I fashioned her behind a door ¡

Then premature Time: they struck the hinges, removed the wood ;-; my boon ;-; \\ I am so exposed to those constant throes — these words, the only peace.

[[ So find me there
in the Bloom of Tombs,
In the ground
( <> ) So world renowned.
These busted births
garner no worth,
but in Earth’s bosom,
{ |.| } I may blossom. ]]

Categories Poetry

Edward Hemstreet is a surfacing artist from New Jersey, United States. His works are featured or forthcoming in Dunes Review, Into the Void magazine, and The Gateway Review, among others. In other realms of literature, he has written a presently-unpublished novel, The Model. When not writing, he may be found drinking uncomfortable amounts of tea.

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