Samhain 2013 - a reading (on YouTube)
Towering trees guard the ancient ruins where gods once wept. Only blind men dwell there now, unscathed by its leprous beauty. Wispy, white clouds fly like victory pennants on an azure field. Bushy tendrils of Spanish moss sway in the slightest breeze, swinging like the beards of old, gray men dancing in the trees. From his high presbyterian perch, an osprey dines in silence, dropping piscine morsels onto the congregational steps below.
Towering trees guard the ancient ruins where gods once wept. Only blind men dwell there now, unscathed by its leprous beauty. Wispy, white clouds fly like victory pennants on an azure field. Bushy tendrils of Spanish moss sway in the slightest breeze, swinging like the beards of old, gray men dancing in the trees. From his high presbyterian perch, an osprey dines in silence, dropping piscine morsels onto the congregational steps below.
Soft lavender twilight deepens to indigo as pinpoints of
light wink to life and a few become unstable, blazing fiery trails to earth.
The night flashes to life, briefly revealing a glimpse of the world beyond the
darkened window before settling back to a pale reflection of within. A
flickering flame describes an imperfect circle around which tongues of shadow
dance and press but dare not enter.
The moon plays hide and seek among the clouds, its light
occasionally spilling forth like cream overflowing a pewter pitcher, her light a
sparkling, sunlit memory adrift on an otherwise cloud-strewn and stormy sea. Still
and unmoving in the silence of the cauldron, water sleeps content in the beauty
of her reflection, capturing her in unnatural slumber.
© 2013 Edward P. Morgan III
