Staring into the canal and
letting the sound of water lull one into
dreams of the danube. Realities
are separated only by time and location.
Somewhen, in the subconscious the
Turul screeches. Abandoned forts pass
as horses thunder on. Someday,
even this will be lost.
Ancestral memories of a sword in the land of Ügyek.
May we lay claim to a land never seen, never felt. Privileged few
wander the land’s of their forefathers except in
dreams. Every day, every
moment, wars are
fought. The Earth swallows the
dead, but still, sometimes, the
soul’s stories persist.
I am a writer from Buffalo, NY who is currently residing in Atlanta, GA, and also the short fiction editor for Variety Pack magazine. I have one chapbook published by CWP Press entitled: "Ruminations" and have poetry and fiction published in 14 journals. He can be found @MadRadIan