by Craig McGeady

Published in Issue No. 277 ~ June, 2020

There is pain in a rooster’s crow

and in a small patch of sun

I remember the taste of coffee.


Each day is a mouthful

as birds find themselves

upon an ocean, riding dusty waves.


Moments rupture, tearing eons

from a distant shore as a backward glance

raises emptiness.


Then suddenly, silence falls

like ballasts in a broken keel

to land between my shoulder blades.

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Craig McGeady is from Greymouth, New Zealand and lives with his wife and two daughters in Xuzhou, China. His writing runs the gamut of length and form thanks to Mr. Miller, his high school homeroom teacher with a penchant for Michael Moorcock. He has been published in The Garfield Lake Review, The Remembered Arts Journal, The Wild Word, Genre: Urban Arts and Roanoke among others and is winner of the 2018 Given Words 'The Spanish Connection' Poetry Competition. He has published two chapbooks of poetry, 'We Have Taught the Trees to Rust' and 'From an Upstairs Room'.