Hiking with Friends Jonas Essington
Underneath the vaulted sky, we sit, huddled forms packed together, heavy steam pouring forth from our lips as we squint towards Elysium. Surrounded by the husks of wars gone by, the shattered remnants of forgotten ordinance peppering the tranquil scenery of our current escape. Artifacts actualize the passage of time as we find shelter under woolen blankets, next to dying embers. Or maybe this is Elysium.
Spring 2021
Poetry 57
