iqmagi

In citrine and hyacynth
the footprint of Luna
and death's rattle
hidden in the shade

She will curl her painted
arm across Polaris
and the dog star blistering in
the dying light

Take heed, take hold.
Cease not for the lycanthrope
nor the vestubles of gold.

Take heed, take hold
the furies buried in
the blackest lake in pale
soliloquies of old'

~S~