twilight
thin fingers trace rivers on maps with dark edges
on the wall all mirrors painted black for scrying
in those mirrors she looks for him the child that fell into the river
his body found embalmed now in a grave just down the street
thin fingers trace rivers on maps with dark edges
on the wall all mirrors painted black for scrying
in those mirrors she looks for him the child that fell into the river
his body found embalmed now in a grave just down the street
but she wonders what of his soul?
hoping for visitations, she readies herself every night prays
as her fingers trace rivers on the maps in the room of her divining
once ready she gazes into the black mirrors by candlelight
hoping to catch a glimpse of his reflection
hoping for visitations, she readies herself every night prays
as her fingers trace rivers on the maps in the room of her divining
once ready she gazes into the black mirrors by candlelight
hoping to catch a glimpse of his reflection
but he is
never there
what she does not know is that he is not in the dark
he is in the field by the river where he fell
he runs there every day hoping to see her before he falls again
he is in the field by the river where he fell
he runs there every day hoping to see her before he falls again
2 comments:
the first two lines really set the tone…so sad!
In the fourth line I wonder if "embalmed" and "now in a grave" should be flipped so that it doesn't sound like his body was found embalmed, if that makes sense. small thing.
ah so sad.
This is haunting, especially the first few lines, and the way you repeat the line about tracing rivers in the second stanza.
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