EMEMTEN

By Stephen Cheney

Evening in the forest ridge;
Empty shells on the ground,
Droppings of careless foes.
Snaking limbs vein the sky.
Hunting through tree barriers,
'Till in bush overlooking a small valley below.

The wait begins 'till sleeps the hydra heads.
The farmhouse on the slope
Harbours a Predator landed from distant lands.
From afar his scope will seek an Eagle
In following days on platform dais.

Bunked with his gemlike companions;
One of them watches the night.
Slow goes the worm or will cross wires.
The dark surrounds and blinds;
The night light beckons a moth.

At the porch now crouches the Panther;
As the Night Watcher watches dark far trees
And waits for a signal from the Cockatoo
Nested by the road through day through night;
His cry will scatter hydras into forest windings.

A thread of fishing line …
A drop of Silence …
Flows down to the lips …
From above.
Never will wake the imbibed.

Slipping passed the Night Watcher,
Sliding the dark ground,
To the trees that shimmer darkly.
To the freedom of the vast spaces,
Country roads back to city lights.

A dawn cry but no scattering of hydras.
Instead despair of mourning sorrow.
The Predator's heart had stopped.
Nothing can be done to revive;
Buried in a mission.

An accident has forestalled a plan;
Such are the troubles of man.
Can bear a fate denied?
Gem a cast aside.
Is lament a master tide?

The Eagle visited the platform dais;
Its calls change the world.
What was to be a demise
Came to be an enterprise.
No one knows where no one goes,
There is a Divine Wind that blows.

(Image: Dante & Virgil Leaving the Dark Wood - Gustave Doré)

[The views expressed in this publication are solely those of the author(s) and do not necessarily reflect the views of Dissecting Society]