By Veronica Ashenhurst Borderland —In memory of S.P., my grandfather You’ve been pebbled grey ash in a box for years, while I’m a recluse, ill. We’re a quiet pair: displaced from the land, far from its gold wheat sea. But now, if you knew, you’d quake: the enduring country is a slaughter bench. Men of … Continue reading Borderland and Other Poems
Academy of the Heart And Mind 