In this country, dawn is forever.
The sky—an infinite blue cup
edged in blood. Clouds—tracks left
by the trampling feet of ghosts.
This is their country.
Restless sand, uncertain rivers that smooth
the hills like simple stones.
And always, the anxiety.
This land is theirs,
a land that knows the endlessness
of dawn and spring and newness
rising like another lost child.
The dead are forgetful. They ask—
Which one are you? Who are you?
They squint in the red light.
You are less than a memory to them.
This country is theirs:
This is a land where nothing is buried.
Megan Arkenberg is a Milwaukee native currently living and writing in California. Her work has appeared in Asimov’s, Lightspeed, Ellen Datlow’s Best Horror of The Year, and dozens of other places. She procrastinates by editing the fantasy e-zine Mirror Dance.