I haunt you.
Wings of night
take me to you.
Clothe me nobly in my soul;
magnificent.
The garden gate
creaks with my arrival,
weak complaining
in the interim.
No one hears,
unless they know the sound.
Even as arrows fly,
black raven’s wings
carry the child.
Hooked beak
an unlikely weapon
for a savior.
Never been much
for much,
until there was
an end to it all.
However faded the shadow,
it falls easily upon us.
Carefully draped,
like a statuette,
or a memory.
HG – 2019