Ghost Dance
DRINK
- The night came like the
turning out of a lamp
and in another moment
came tomorrow - HG Wells
Wisteria clung through a sweep of trees.
The sun repaired behind its several hills
then brought the cyprus to its knees
down in that rook of whip-o-wills.
For all its crowns of moss and clover
covered banks and floating islands
wisteria had taken over
the underlook. Then from the highlands
came a rush of massive wings
at some remove, in the twilight
looming closer. Jagged things
that cast their shadows up the height
and down across the very brink...
where the dragons came
where the dragons came down
when the dragons came down to drink.
A dead silence in the raftered canopy,
murdered by their crashing through
its sheltered overhang of tree
tops sloughed away in stride, anew.
Black talons gripped the sponge of earth
well known to them in all its harbor,
for its slake and all its worth -
an insulated, sacred arbor
where they came to light amass
among the shreaded leaves and vine
to smooth a place out in the grass
with necks of winding, serpentine.
To breathe their fire and, burning, slink...
where the dragons came
when the dragons downed,
where the dragons came down to drink.
Like paper torn from hallowed walls
in a fury, floating down and down
to where the water falls
in a dawn of some reknown
where half the sun's a yellow ball,
foregoing all the damage done
by their simple act of walking
by their lightening trod of thunder
toward the quench that they were stalking,
where-in the spell they were under -
wisteria had conquered all
with its purple, mindless blink
where the dragons came
when the dragons came down
where the dragons came down to drink.
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