Zachary Hing

Time is slowly set
Unerringly though it drapes
Glacial armature over bodies
Flat memory gathers up what remains

Flowers said memory, so foetal
Before the television set
A burnt thing blooms, not forgot
But hurled away, repressed
Caution, lest it be rerun
In quiet, brutal, monochrome

Youth, so vibrant, howled
And…