by Alva Dean
Death is a dear old way
tethered touring, to a shallow grave
later day sorted missing
some kind of favor for fair-whether
to part the pair of a cast stare
measured degrees to stay past neat
and pardon by the bone
stone lonely soul
taken toll of long moan
made sure of it
settled pit
slowly walk alone
in dim dusk, borrowed stock
wide husk
marrow molted
waiting for the late night
sitting evening brings the dark
cold soles break the snow
settled by the bank
slowly knelt
and slept
Biography
Hello! My name is Ian Cook. I am 1/4 Indonesian, 1/4 Chinese, 1/4 Swedish, 1/4 German, American born, internationally raised. When I’m not petting my dogs and hanging out with my wife, I’m writing poetry, music, playing guitar and video games, drawing portraits and hands, biking, and exploring Lawrence, Kansas. I believe in the power of self-education and the importance of the new, to keep my mind active and growing. I’m always looking to learn, I find joy in figuring something out, taking the parts useful to me, and making it a part of my toolkit.
Snarl 