Hollering, emptiness
must have gobbled up all of the skies' cities
unpaved all of the roads
snapped up all of the
solitary magic folk
leaving not even a cloak
or scroll to testify that
they too had been here
Long ago before
all of the roads turned to
dust
and hinterlands stretching
into forever—
You could hear something louder
than rain like chatter that birds
could not fly through
and
all of the things that made
your little sister
cover her ears and
retreat
to the very edges of
the real world that you recall
back before everything became
thick with
something so vast and lonely
that no amount of you
standing at the highest peak
letting out all of the screams
and tears you must always hide
could ever replace the sound of winds
over empty praries—
or canyons so full of lonely thoughts
and the sound of
two fillies laughing against forests—
Your heart could not
move mountains
no matter how much
hollering
you unloaded at the
emptiness