by Andrew Tate
Peace is reading Njal’s saga in the rain
and watching a zoomorphic interlace rend
the complex sky
and hearing halberds splitting shields
on the overhang
and watching the soil drink water
like a freshly burnt home.
A busy computer scientist with the heart of a humanities major, Andrew Tate nurtures his lifelong love affair with poetry as best he can. He grew up laughing hard as his mom read him Shel Silverstein’s poems. Later, the British Romantics caught his wistful attention and he counts his visits to the Lake District among his most hallowed experiences. Poetry is the breath of his soul and—finding himself at the end of an twenty-one year long inhalation—he is just beginning to breath normally, trying his hand at writing as well as enjoying, breathing out as well as in.
