Piker Press — Weekly Journal of Arts and Literature
April 27, 2026

Hidden

"...You walk the clouds above me..."

Hidden

You are hidden now beneath the shadows of the trees
You are alive in my dreams as I walk on shattered knees
You walk the clouds above me, masked in opaque veils
You dig the ground below me among the ghastly wails

Your eyes are upon me when I have no choice to close my eyes
Your body is beside me when my drunken memory lies
You do not change, I do not move as the decades pass
You and I sit empty at the bottom of each glass






More by John Tustin → More poetry → Full issue →
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