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The Ghost of a Sage

August 19, 2009

And it seems that thorns
Don’t break my high
Roses in a shepherd’s pie

And his wife said to hold up his arms
When the shadows came through the fence on the farm

A being crept and broke down the door
And they held each other for life
They knew that it would be here
From the glow of the whites of her eyes

And the shadow spread his arms
And threw back his cape
And hissed a cloud

That slowly enveloped the shepherd and the Woman
And they held each other for the night
Believing they would surely die

As everything leaked back into the shadow
And left
As the morning sun dripped its citrus

All into their eyes

They saw they were alive

And slowly the shadow traveled around the country side
Showing the other side of the moon
From behind their eyes