iron
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Hong Kong China crunchclash of ideologies—iron mixed with clay
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© 2019 Mark Toney. All rights reserved.
Losing him feels like
a thousand days' rain.
A weathered heart
pumping rusty blood
through iron veins.
When he's gone
a patinated pulse
is all I have left.
I can feel his presence
The mirror highlights the differences
From the polaroid on the wall
Of a man undriven, sad but unwilling
Enslaved to his own weakness
Sharp words and cruel tongues
Ignited the crucible long overdue
I could never climb like you.Pray tell where you are reaching to so fervently?When, if ever, will you reach there, the place invisible to me?
