The Poetry of Mark Daniel Milbocker 
Unmasking Mortal Enemies

river runs over the millstone's turning
sacred wheel spirals timeward down the
ocean corridor of volcanic vents fallen
still in a flush of fruiting viridescence
a canopy of overgrown voices boiling
between the ocean sway of tides vascilating
from wind to curling thermoclines contemplating
mental maelstroms only to be seated at
a hearthy table across from a mirrored throne
and an empty chair and we the sanguine trinity
who slide under time and eversee the tone of
antithesis free forgiven and forgotten as
banter gives way to a vulnerable fray
too soon to frolic the evening with tipsy
glass eyes wandering til they rest 
against the apple tree.
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©2024 Mark Daniel Milbocker  All rights reserved.