Photo by Kirill Pershin on Unsplash

icelight in my eyes
iceflowers on the wind
a storm black night
stings me awake
my dreams scatter
light dissipates
night fritters away day
sky black with cloud
disperses time into verses,
made of earth, in grave colours;
no black mass here
no candles in the wind
no witches zoom to the moon,
no lifting of the spirits
just gloom
as men fall into death
singly or en masse
gone, gone, all too soon
see the dead a-glimmering
brimful against the sky
no time to say goodbye.

alone in a room,
iceflowers zoom
a-shimmer in my head
the living and the dead
a dark-blue bloom
on the far-away moon
my heart is never done
with singing
words that stumble into line
we are not who we think we are
phoenixes made of time
(flesh blood,
bread, wine).

still the music of the spheres
reverberates in an echoing sky.
invisible moonbeams
drift quietly by.

( line-up ye distant hills
write-up this glowering sky,
let it all tumble by).

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