Yesteryear Fiction

Where Have All The Knights Gone?
By Travis Gorinker


It crosses the lips of slavers and their slaves
It flies in the mind's eye of the man lost in the desert
The horse dreams it in the night
The monarch murmurs it as he turns fitfully in his golden bed
The dragons ponder it in silence, whispering smoke rings to each other
As the pen lingers on the page, unable to write,
Unable to dream any dreams except the one that they all share,
The one voiced by the little girl who sits on the steps of the capital, crying:
“Where have all the knights gone?”


- - -
I live where no other man lives. Look for me on Illusions of Color.