Poem: Night Drive

 

Moonless Drive

 

candles

trawl midnight gloom,

carve lucence

out of onyx,

 

the world

a bowl of twin cones

surrounded

by shadowy fruit,

 

elusive

cornucopias

of mythic coils

nestled in folds,

 

while the finite wax

follows a path,

among the curves

of this great serpent,

 

winding and burning

burning and winding,

seeking a home

not devoured.

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