ouroboros

and it is warm for January
birds swing and fall in the sky
like dancing stars.
the sun sits low on a cloud
washing the land in warmth and light,
shattered by the naked branches  
of an oak tree

beside me lay a serpent of stone
encircling the old Homestead.
its tail is splayed and broken;                        
its lithic spine jags in prostration,
again, broken.
i do not try to climb over, i know
the land is Forbidden.

great metal beasts heave themselves
down the tongue
through the wrought iron teeth
of the front Gates
and always back again.
their scars sprawl the landscape,
unpassable.

forced forward,
i am confined to a strip of grass
narrowed by converging boundaries
i see a sign: S ve the Wal !
it is wrapped tight in vine
and the lettering has been
washed away by weather.
as i continue to walk
i listen to the wind whistling
through the trees
moving to reclaim the earth

Noah Zweifel is a Communications major on the journalism track at SUNY Geneseo. Being from Utica, NY, he has a good understanding of human pain and suffering, and enjoys pretending that those are what make good writing. Find him Mondays through Fridays at the MJ grill station, and he’ll tell you all about how he’s totally gonna start reading Infinite Jest, and that he really means it this time around. Oh, and try not to say anything about his hair.