Into the West Sonnet Series

Beetle blight had eaten holes through the green
carpet of the mountains, above valleys
who lay soft and lush as courtesans seen
by fresh eyes. The land has borne worse follies,
mined for its riches, treasure hoards carried
on the backs of desperate men. Their homes
are ghosts, full of longing and dreams buried
with the dead. The towns resurrect the bones
or prospect…



Mother, daughter, photographer, writer (sort of). www.texasgirlphotography.com www.instagram.com/amyjasek

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