The path of Lost Souls
Photography: Brooke Shaden
in the dead of winter season
you build a trail
of paper boats
beside the dock of black ships
at night, when all is still
you set them sailing towards western sky
where the red moon waits
to run its silver-blue fingers
across its bows, like a violin player
threading silk strings with sweet air
of oblivion
i pause and watch you
waiting by Lethe, underworld river
this is your ritual
disguising tricks with musical flair
to tempt & slaughter my energy
under my red veil,
i conceal my remaining possessions:
witch hazel oil, fire wand
& finally, my mother's crescent -shaped knife
which your rustic hands will gladly pay
for a feast
of my sacrifices
i have given up many things for this voyage -
my innocence to discover names of every truth
my roots to hold one forbidden fruit
& taste its skin & seeds, for myself
and i will not be deterred even if
you say that I am
on the path of lost souls
cusp between earth's deepest divide: shadow & light
a ghost on long dusty road
wind-struck,
searching to find what she has lost
irretrievably
Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Hosted by Brian Miller
And Imaginary Garden for Real Toads - Get Listed for October - Ghost Stories
We are to used at least 3 words from the wordlist from M:
fairy, portal, sacrifice, feast, smoke, winter, slaughter, spirit, veil, ritual, trick, disguise
