Dylan Everett. Fall down the wind


Say it ain’t so



Dwelt in a wing lost in passing thought, 
Or love dies and we say it ain’t so, 
But it’s just another form of loss, another place,  
A time born in fragments. 
Another heart rests in its place out of sight, 
Another hand is held in the dark, 
Or the body finds its home alone between sheets. 
Alone, awake, the body passes into its own shadows. 
Praising silence in its visceral touch, 
Its voice, its grace, its passing, into unknown beginnings. 
Dwelt in a wing not in flight, Lost in a flight near that lost thought of heart, 
Remembered in the dying love we try to say it ain’t so.






Fall down the wind



Fall down the wind
Those steps are torn from lovers
Ask about everything in the night
Those woven trials
Those dear hunters gasp
For breath
For songs from distance
Broken down into silence
It stirs the void of stars
It marks the skin of borrowed angels
Those steps down into time
All the lonely wakes of others unheard. 
Their graves and
Other stories all
Fall down the wind. 

About the contributor

Dylan Everett is Adelaide-based Australian poet. He has a background in visual arts and poetry. He has previously contributed to Broadsheet journal, and been involved in visual art/writing projects as part of The Adelaide Festival of Arts. He is a previous contributor to The Blue Nib.

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