Poetry / by bryson
When All That’s Left Are Lonesome Islands & Burning Roads
We have become almost religious about burning bridges.
Fifth Attic / by bryson
Recently found
in the attic.
A poem about endings, the passage that remains after a crossing, and the bridges that do not need to burn.
Read the work Explore the houseElsewhere in the house
House Index ↗
On the worktable
View all ↗An Incomplete Record of Small Impossible Things
Manuscript in progress↗Storykeep
In final testing↗The public house
Archive in development↗leave nothing accidental.
Intention is the truest form of respect for the work, the materials, and the people who receive it.
There are other rooms.