Born in a cauldron of Fyre,Skin, scalding and wet from primal birth.The tongs glow red with Rage as I break apart the remnants of the shell, so it can hatch in full view. I see it clearly now-Scales glisten with albumin and liquid light. The room grows darker and I feel a sudden chill, as if the infernal being were absorbing energy from the surrounding hearth. Growing steadily brighter I make out a silvery form, an unmistakable beak, made of metal no man could think to craft. Shrill wails emerge from this terrifying spore. Echoes of pain, of mistakes from past lives described in agonizing detail, in inscrutable language. It’s eyes beady and blacker than the night, seethe, at what I could not tell you.What…
Tag: poetry
Road poetry #1
From the Oachita to the Ozarks
A Mighty fog blankets the Oachita and the Sun is reduced to a pale ghost And I slow down to take in this ethereal landscape. The trees expire, and I see their spirits dance above the thick grass leaving carpets of mist above clearings, lingering like a lover’s kiss from the night before The trees are shorter now compared to the trees in the midwest No dancing hawks like in the Smokies, or perhaps it’s too early and wet for them (it must be 7am) Backroads while the most scenic, can also be the most frustrating It’s now daylight and morning traffic has slowed to a crawl. Enough is enough, I decide to cross the double yellow line to overtake the slowpokes in front of…