top of page

Jared Pearce

It’ll take forever to get home.

We griped against the cold in the gripping 

darkness, somehow showing we could be 

clever, our minds burning a cave to shelter 


the shivers. Then the stars wheeled out,

and the snow, for all we knew, was the end of times: 

our planet plunged through its milky way basket.  


Nothing eventually streamed from heaven.

Even the cold ashes of her eyes

gave place to the dark cold

where we surrendered, empty handed.

Brett Stout Broken_Hands_Converge_A_Brea
bottom of page