Friday, September 02, 2005

POEM FOR N.A.

You wear your darkness like a cape,
comfort-clung with the ease of years,
trust requited in its drape:
perfect sanctuary for fears.

Each languid swish fans the air,
unsettles winking stars like dust:
sequined specks in a cloud of hair
that shimmer with each gentle gust.

But these are no fairy lights:
no friendly goblins’ tease and play,
nor merry dance of elves and sprites
to keep a wicked witch away.

For they are fires lit by shades
to cleanse the fearful night of dread,
and light a way through pain-hung glades
to take the living to the dead.

***

3 comments:

Alex said...

thank you very much...scary '...to take the living to the dead'

Alex said...

the grim reaper...

SPECKLED_BAND said...

No, not quite, N A!

:)