✨ Westward

anonymity’s wildness...

Westward

for A. M.

Lip the rivulet, cold,
brown, and old;

your glow glints from
the collapsed town limits.

I ride on toward my
anonymity’s wildness;

I roam the city
murmuring I am

young, my heart is strong,
and I can take it.

—Sandra Marchetti

From Diorama, Stephen F. Austin University Press, © Copyright 2025. Used with permission of the poet. Photo by Marina Grynykha, Creative Commons, via Unsplash.