Against the Wind

Who threw water on the wick?
Who, as restless and trapped
can survive in this necropolis?
Trumpeting down the walls
that are not of Jericho.
Trumpeting down the walls
that besiege a chthonic people.

Tonight I shall return as a black dove
to bring you an oak tree branch from Dodona
And a darkness full of lightning
all the way from the palace of Atropos.
So that you stay up all night 
and knead
a bright sunshine for tomorrow.

"Good morning wind-vane",
to say when morning comes,
"where do the winds blow from today?"
And just like a white horse 
to gallop against the wind.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2012

Poem

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