this is mystery, ache,
faith in a hope of Love:

to sleep beneath grass still
wet with midsummer rain –
and in the same breathless

instant, walk timeless
streets, a tearless city,

a country where no shovel
ever turned a new grave

Steve Brisendine lives, works and remains unbeaten against the New York Times crosswords in Mission, KS. A 2024 Pushcart Prize nominee, he has appeared in Modern Haiku, Flint Hills Review, I-70 Review and other publications and anthologies. He has no degrees, one tattoo and an unironic fondness for strip-mall Chinese restaurants. Write to him at steve.brisendine@live.com.