wildscape. literary journal

I’m not anti-apocalypse, but I don’t want it to happen now
by Brian U. Garrison

Rain still falls on Angkor Wat.
Fronds wave. Moss crawls.
Nature's gentle carpet
against rigid architecture.

This blossoming archeology:
the opposite of a soldier
whose tender interior
carries a hard outer shell.

Two deconstructionists, moss
and bodies, in this moment
between collapse. Jasmine
blooms in my backyard,

far from soldiers
and archaeology.
A fragile scent
on the wooden trellis.

A mighty collaboration
by former star stuff
committed to gravity,
and simultaneously defiant.

about the author // Brian U. Garrison