“Thorned Castles and Rust” by Sage Cruser


Saw-edged ceilings
Enclose her,
Jab down at the close air
With cemented force,
Ruthless and leaved,
Threaten to pierce

Through thorned gaps
The gray sky hangs,
Heavy and weary
With knowledge of the day,
Sights that wrap and
Squeeze and stick

Witnessed horrors
Ooze and slither
Through the fields,
Weighted with memory,
Blackberry blood and
Distressed sweat

She knows each pit, dip, puddle that
Spots the landscape,
Senses the paths but can’t
Escape the maze
Lined with barbs
Sharp and rusted


Sage Cruser lives and works in Seattle.