Tangled Skein

Red sands, crystal skulls,
Witches in the wind.
Crooked trees, spells of fire,
Tails of donkies pinned.

Season’s shadow, werewolf’s glory,
Love and war abound.
Mystery hunt, swan song’s sting,
Twilight eyes of hound.

Pale dragon’s crown, adept of blue
Bearing an hourglass.
What a tangled skein we weave
As through life we pass.

The source of death through streams of passing,
Red branches of the stars.
Servants of an unloved time
Who hide behind their scars.

War of wizards, mother’s love.
Deep water in the vale.
Night shift on the river wall
Unto you I hail.

Hunters of the legacy.
Jewels of a ladies hand.
At the gates of heaven’s door
Is where I’ll make my stand.

Crystal shard of red and silver,
Split infinity.
I think tonight I’ve found my place
For all eternity.

Injured

Like flies to death the birds clouded the lot.
As I approached I saw an injured squirrel.
The birds were eating it alive.

A banshee scream drove back the birds.
They hopped about, waiting to feed,
Only a step away.

The squirrel’s hind quarters
Were a flattened penny
Left on the rails.

My coat, a stretcher
For a careless man’s act.
I tried to be gentle.

The squirrell shredded the coat like leaves
As it struggled
To be free.

I placed him in a bush
Where the fowls could not go.
Safe, but not safe enough.