Tag: betwixt and between

  • feast

    to sit still on
    a windswept hill
    call myself stone,
    feast on her song from
    under the mound
    and slumber to
    while away the ages

  • lady waiting

    we follow the same
    wading both blood
    & blades for a glimpse
    of the lady waiting
    at the end of the glade
    & to receive her nightkiss

  • hole

    dusk pours out of me
    i am that lost hour
    a brittle bone heart
    carved in passing as
    they drift to the next
    hole in the sky,
    a stone before the lake

  • wilderness

    come the sluagh nights soonly
    come they baying at your door
    sickle scythe under nightmoon
    a'reaving long before the dawn

  • at the wytching tree

    this chronic river
    flawing through
    is a stoning earned
    for the time cast 
    down drunk at
    the wytching tree

    there is no care
    for these secrets 
    that might be shared
    those left to die here
    in the wee hours down
    at the wytching tree

  • on the wind

    "throw your head away
    and let branches replace
    the empty left behind",
    said the acorn man

    so
    we gathered round
    and grew old,
    apple blossoms
    on the wind

  • to the turning within

    Photo by Trent Pickering on Unsplash
    as the nights slip
    cauldron to stone
    from wave to cold
    we turn to the 
    turning within

    spirits on the wander
    gather 'round the flames
    dancing, spinning, yearning
    as they give to the
    turning within

    let all our debt burn away
    as we turn to the
    turning within

  • our lady of crows

    our lady of crows
    waits above the ford
    will you bed her at river
    should she bid you?
    be she maiden or crone?
    she waits on her lover,
    our lady of crows

    have you come to
    collect waters issued of
    our lady of crows?
    to reap on the harvest,
    as gifted bounty of
    our lady of crows?
    or have you come to
    enjoin at frenzy and fury
    of our lady of crows?

  • her narrows standing

    i wait on dreams
    of her fountainhead,
    at her narrows standing

    flow her water, oak & ash
    hazel & blackthorn sharp,
    at her narrows standing

    wait upon gold & rust
    for rime & without reason,
    at her narrows standing

    long the night i belong
    set to slumber underground,
    at her narrows standing

  • alkali

    thin sticks stacked
    for drifter design
    in this twilight world
    all glyph and glamour
    —howl now the wolves

    gun oil and smolder
    burning under the thick
    hammer crack, steel
    the flint for the sticks

    dream now
    in shift with the pale