Requiem Clay F. Johnson And the poet says that by starlight You come seeking, in the night, the flowers that you picked — Rimbaud Moon-eyed I sight-read the sky Divining the stars like bones, Tracing patterns of star-clouds I prophesize tree-spirits rise, Slow-burning, curling wisps of smoke That float like faceless ghosts Ascending into darkness Toward undiscovered universes Breathing death into Earth’s Planetary lungs, the fire-clouds Consume the owl-light & witch-stones, Untuning the music of the stars In fluctuating starlight, […]
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