Night, ossuary dank.

 

Watchfires flare

in the hills.

 

Out there in the miasma

of creation,

 

a virus thrives

in its first host.

 

Here, our streets reek

of festering offal.

 

Unlike the lamb,

 

we know where

we’re being led:

 

here, we sing

out of fear.

 

Brett Harrington

Brett Harrington’s (he/him/his) previous publications include Ligeia, Two Hawks Quarterly, The Shore, Third Coast, The Inflectionist Review and Bluestem, and he was a finalist for the 2012 Best of the Net award. He lives in the Rogue Valley in southern Oregon.

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