Which cruel moon imbued me with such agony,
I would choose chains of bone
and shear my fragile wings?
To tread the dust resigned,
divorced from vast empyrean.
The treasures slow diminish,
Spent to discern distances.
Walking the path forged,
wondering whose luminous feet
burning from heaven's furnace
etched the loops of trail
and composed a starry gap?
Between an amber hand and coals a-glow,
dappled shade defends the two.
Closeness culled by swirls of shadow,
guardians o'erwatching you.
I know my shackled ring of a body;
I know gold's limited guile.
I still would give all for the blessing and curse
Of the memory of our short while.
@d-pend on 5/25/18