musings and riddles

poetry by f. s. navratil

[fsnavratil]

while i write you poems

//fs navratil

[fsnavratil]

//fs navratil

[fsnavratil]

klara

//fs navratil

[fsnavratil]

always, for us

//fs navratil

[fsnavratil]

//fs navratil

[fsnavratil]

//fs navratil

[fsnavratil]

//fs navratil//

[fsnavratil]

//fs navratil

[fsnavratil]

for love.

//fs navratil

[fsnavratil]

restless

//fs navratil

[fsnavratil]

saint katherine's hill

//fs navratil

[fsnavratil]

heroically

//fs navratil

[fsnavratil]

i choke with spring

//fs navratil

[fsnavratil]

white yarrow

//fs navratil

[fsnavratil]

april

//fs navratil

[fsnavratil]

a march to remedy.

//fs navratil

[fsnavratil]

chipped nails and curled lashes in a crackling cage at the carnival. excuse my sore knuckles, this absent minded interval; the pen tearing page. reverie or retrospect or a longing for conflict, the world may never know. standing alone with sore feet is my way of accepting (inviting) defeat. picture me a picturesque scene with trees of burgundy and clouds of green, a beam of light almost there, almost unseen. it’s where i would like to be. but the crackling cage at the carnival is my home, so i must sit on my throne made of ash, mud, and bone.

//f.s. navratil