Many Thousands of Miles

Many thousands
of miles below
those icy kingdoms,
where hope freezes
and sticks against
metal things,

bright red,
painfully peeling,
the Vizier sees
Aurora, as she glows.

Gone, gone.

The broken spell echoes on,
and the mountains call,

“Would you be happy alone?”

I’ll never know,
but I have Aurora
in my lenses
and, as with
blinders or fences,

I can wander in circles.

Such far-flung distances,
‘ever-twisting the grade,
as it increments skyward.

Or does mere exhaustion
push my chin to my chest,
as my eyes glare downward
to create the illusory height.

Babel-high, heavens-bright,
there’s no one to translate
my fears and frights.

Just so… I may fall,

without ever realizing
that I never moved,

at all.

©️ CG Tenpenny, 2023.

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