Here Be Gods Poem by Aaron Graham

The Weak Corner of a Picture's Splintered Frame

Part II. ~ "Here Be Gods"

The Aeolian wind blows now.
In days, in time, past- it crippled the yew:
Rending it from its home. Broke that
Which broke the backs of man and titan alike?
And all looked upon it and despaired
At the unnatural 45DEG, less than acute
Forms a bridge across ages that lye strewn,
About the annals of time, this unreal post-waste-
Cityscape, serves as the resting place for the gods
Gods who- likely- ruled the nothingness, and
They too lost hope, somewhere in the process of
Becoming, too- despaired, of facing-
The unflinching nature of nothingness.
The Atelic winds still blow now- as before-
The gods- and after- In nothingness