Poems

Lost Kingdoms

By Peter Halstead

I organize these rhythms
In all deference,
So that their angled prisms
Manufacture only glints

Of things, clones
That cunningly replace
Us on our mobile phones
With a more public face,

The way that phloem
Rushes up a tree,
Finding in its borrowed home
Something complementary,

But I hope that this uproar
Won’t, as sonnets will,
Feign what came before,
But instead, my queen, until

Kingdom come,
Fuse our pages in the sun.

July 26th & 27th, 2021
Kaiholu

November 28th, 2021
Kaiholu