silquil

thoughtless and flightless
like a raven on the sill
forced whistles
from rainfall to white noise

our shoes pick up ashes
of where men and women were born
from the ash and elm
to the landscape we have torn
lend your heart and ears
from rain noise to white fall

starved deserts and flooded cities
unnatural conditions with no name
a lost trick of evolution
all within a guilded frame








ASH+ELM EP