at the end, the precipice. no signs forward no signs back no bridge over no wings to fly only wide open black space descending down away from the sky
Then a movement in the wind catches my eye in this world of black and white there at the crossroads the devil waits under the black yew tree in the early night waiting there for me under the rough yew tree his black hat doffed, courting me once more a secret love, it never dies that long ago was born And once again I see Him calling softly for me under that dark yew tree it is him there seducing and pointing toward the precipice
behind this demon love there a carousel appears singing tinny melodies from forgotten Depression years
round and round she goes where the children are nobody knows there are only empty painted horses and music no one hears
and I on knife’s edge teetering as the carousel horses leer they know you were gone forever and also know you returned. As you beckon smiling, (a great black bird sweeps by) in the bird I see your beauty in the greyness of its eyes I contract, I fly… seeking you in flight on we soar once again through the joyful black night
Morning comes, wind-music singing in my ears I have not yet noticed that you disappeared Gliding still there in the sky with you I am a bird and then I notice no more carousel and No more grey eyed man of flight.
spinning arcing wheeling falling out of control I stare alone down the windshear precipice once more and hear the sudden clicking slide of pebbles falling down this deep dark hole
where do you go when love is flown and taken truth and souls?