Walled In

The paint recalls, layered and petulant, groans mindless in its ground, it decomposes. Granules of hematite, pale traceries of gypsum, the crevasses of cave wall are soot soothed. Layered and petulant the palm of man appears charcoal dusted, amongst the antelope and bison. Do you hear the drum’s call, the hollow wail of bone flute, the slap of bare feet, the drone of chant? Red-lead or orange crystalline roars atop the gummy white in Pharaoh’s tombs. See the deathly desert and the blood of power as it paves the way; ochre, gypsum, copper blue, groan mindless in its ground. Do you hear the drums call, the hollow wail of wooden flutes, the rattle of the tambourine the clink of bell, as bare feet dance entranced? Decomposed, composed, each grain calls to mind pale traceries of the ages left behind. Soot-soothed, charred coal outlines the faces of God and man upon the walls of time. First Published by Mused 2013