the place the loon calls lonely

they asked me what I'll write

as if I could define such a thing

as if the halls weren't covered in moss

and brimstone

the mountains weren't faded with fog

and mirrors

but i run backward here

shouting forward through sands of time

hollowed out

by your memories

always searching for the place the loon calls lonely

seeping into the dark

of a moonless night

there's peace in that silence

comfort in the void

that always brings me home

A poem by Amber Byers