high above the moss laced cypress
a black moon
arcs ‘cross an indigo sky
bright starshine
sighs as it tumbles off night clouds
gold glimmer
drifts fire into her thin veins
~~~~~~~~~~
this sacred, ancient glory place
cradles time
when sky-spark and mind-spark collide
lost shadows -
of hours spent - show him new life
in the night
in the bright dark their blood crackles
~~~~~~~~~~
their forbidden flesh crusts to bark
scabs over
sinew, muscle, bone, and thought
melts into
the dewy dark tendrils of the
columbine
©Naomi Marshall 2018
