Miasmatic Rapture from the Grounds


United States
35° 47' 36.9852" N, 86° 19' 2.6112" W

The houses of the holy made from rotting pine and ichor
the soft sinew of fallen things abounds
the stench of decomposing things could palpitate a figure
in miasmatic rapture from the grounds
Could we recall the odors of an element’ry school
by huffing happened hosts and haunts held here?
Beholding all the traces of a trenched Stygian rule
Nostalgic sacrilege remains the sentinel, I fear.


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741