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