SANCTUM
In a dark room
Filled with the unfamiliar,
Each step a painfull knock,
Each touch a sharp edged cut,
Each grope a strangeness,
Each breath the pungent ashness
Of withered flowers;
But I turn;
The rising moon is low
On the bay thru the window
With the torn green shade
And missing circle-pull;
Shadows in a gray hallway;
Find the door.
Find the laughing Gypsy girl;
Ignore her proffered key;*
Use the one ancient instead
On my neck lanyard with my tags.
In my norther winter years
I often find this sanctum.
Here, I walk among frozen flowers, faces.
There, the war box
Covered with hoar frost;
Gray matte color
And cold to the touch;
Here a faintly glittering fragment;
My sputtering bit of stardust.
Thru seaweed mask debris;
Discarded adornment;
To Liaisartx by the open slab side,
The door to the Emerald ship.
Entry; closure.
Mag-lev climb;
Rotation to vertical;
Swift, silent journey;
Xorae Stararq a matter of seconds
Beyond the Sun;
Warp to Ceia…sweet mother ocean.
Home.
*Robinson Jeffers…”Margrave”
