Month: August 2022

Clach na Sgàin

CAROLs sound mid Christmas bustle. At the Abbey shadows flit.
SORRY–no, heavy, Scottish history gains bright chapter: stone of
SCONE seized back, taken home to a land where on sunny days
AZURE sky arcs over heathered hills, down past firths to a deep sea.

Windy

BERET-ce yourselves, boys, the gales be blowin’
CATTY-cornered to our path, and in a
PUFFY’d be blown away,
SPUN-Klear around like a tornado and gone.

Bayou

LOWLY bayou, yet ablaze with a
BLAZE of ghosts; though lowly, still
GHOSTly. This lowly bayou enflames the
BAYOU’s pale and lowly emblazing ghosts.

Between Fear and Awe

LOWLY custodian, mopping late. Did he just see-a
GHOST? Scrambles through hallways, staggers outside just as
BLAZE of evening sun rests its weight down,
BAYOU catching crimson fire through the trees: his heart has no wall between fear and awe.

Ghostly

LOWLY esteemed the mead hall of late, the hearth fires
BLAZE no more. Mirth and melody echo eerily, a
GHOST of former times chased away by the
BAYOU-born hell-fiend bent on bloody evil.

Climber

PRONE, hanging mid-air, deep breath, with a flick of the
WRIST I convulse to twist vertical, and continue to
CLIMB the supposedly insurmountable rockface; more
LEERY now of falling, flailing flat on my back again.