DARKA Poem by VolI found a hemlock lying down because that’s the way the wind blew a long time ago. It settled there along the edge of a stone bluff. Having grown that way for all these years, it looks like a ship, its tip curving up, and three limbs, evenly spaced along the top of its supine trunk, like masts with shaggy green sails set to catch the wind. To the left, where the bedrock broke to divide the bluffs and form this wide, little canyon in the hillside, a wet-weather rill splashes down fifteen feet to the floor, and runs along the limestone wall before disappearing underground beneath the little cliff. If you bend down, and listen carefully, the sound of water falling into a dark pool maybe ten feet below echoes up from a place hidden from the sun for so long, the idea of tomorrow has no meaning. © 2025 VolFeatured Review
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5 Reviews Added on November 26, 2025 Last Updated on November 26, 2025 |

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