Lindsay Flanagan

I remember snowstorms that interred
the living souls into this valley
burying them deep, like roots

I remember feuds forsaken
and then the scars worn like badges
sewn over frayed and worn skin

I know the graveyards
and the night air´s taste
how even the water stains the soil

how it creeps into our veins
and lies dormant in our dreams
and bares its fangs when we ask for forgiveness