Palace of the Forgotten

Palace of the Forgotten

Birdsong and leaves beyond the panes
promise forever, and my blisters ache
with joy, hard-won.
Stew from the kettle, birthed
from the well, satiates my destiny.

But the magpie have fled the toppled poplars,
and my dreams are but patina
bleached in the sun.

Even the sage I mocked with toil
forgets my name.

 

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