the darkest hour in the pale bubble of the moon
cool midnight, lonely solvent for tomorrow
raking stars like marbled glitter
shade and shadow merge as one
all asleep, earth and hearth
my heart beats deep in mantle's drum
nightbirds chased by whispered death
silent fled and silent gone
slumbered in diurnal rhythm
a house squats dim, creaks and hums
filled with soothing dreams, soft murmurs
but it's our nightmares make us run
die a little in morning's light
dying to let born generations come
curse on one ignored in time's passing
my longing grown to repair the night
as smolt fed on sire's flesh, frenzied for pacific salt
young blood beat hot against the parent's net
tho' soft and green as summer's grass
windblown swayed with soft rain sounds
lit blazing fire-lance, bursting hearts
flared out into constellation's realm
cupped by fair Tethys, far above a dreamer's sight
and spent fathers rest below, weary now in mortal hands
Categories:
smolt, car, culture, growing up,
Form: Classicism