I am the fall.
Broken in June, buried in August -
haunting September from the boughs of hazel,
where not even the rain could reach me.
How my limbs ached to feel its soothing caress;
but my limbs felt nothing, and I felt nothing.
And the season moved on, without me.
Once, long ago, I was spring,
delicate and pure; fragile as willow seedlings,
believing themselves strong, as they stretch toward the sun -
before the wind breaks their stalks, and they fall
defeated, drained, limp upon the ground;
crushed and forgotten as tears.
But no, I was summer -
when I looked into your eyes for the first time
and forgot to curse the sun.
Tin
Spring
8
Literature
Daylight Forsaken
Do you remember when Aurora
invoked dawn in the sky above us?
How we watched her colors spread
above the highway, the gas station - across the fields,
painting reality in vivid splendor
as we traversed its mundane streets
bathed in the frail whispers of possibility?
We disappeared into the trees
where we spilled our secrets,
let them echo in the early morning stillness
of the orchards; a murmured resonance
played to the tempo of our heartbeats.
We didn't even care when reality invaded
[in the form of an angry farmer]
and shooed us back into its clutches;
it could not break the spell.
Or the night we lost hours
in each others' eyes,
[you kn
Summer
8
Literature
Fallen
Her body broke; her spirit shattered.
Fall
11
Literature
On The Threshold of Creation
Daughter of Hecate,
I was born upon the threshold
of one year and the next:
a tiny earthen creature,
awash in a sea of stars.
Too late did I remember
Capricorn is the goat with
the tail of a fish,
and perhaps my legs were never meant
to tread upon the earth.
I've heard tell
that Saturn is the harshest master,
and will never be satisfied
by words alone.
In the beginning I was sure-footed
as the goat who glitters in stars above me,
ideas sprung full-grown from my head,
as Athena born from Zeus
Too late do I recall
that prophecy foretold,
Zeus' own creation
would surpass even him.
I'm still trying to puzzle out
whether my own creation
will
I thought about how I cut my palm
falling on sharp rock
while we searched the lost and found
of the sea, hoping for treasure.
I wondered if the ocean
would take our lives as payment
for the wares it could not recover
until high tide -
when we would be long gone,
warm inside the cottage on the bluffs,
admiring our pilfered discoveries,
safe from the sinuous fingers of waves.
While outside the foghorns bellowed
and the mist crept in
through cracks too small to see,
seeping into our seaside refuge,
to once again caress
the lost shards of its kin.
I watched the blood swirl in the water
as white sea foam rushed forward
to colle
Bleed your colors to the ground,
let them swirl in the vortex of your breath.
The gathering chill escaped from your lungs
whispers the green earth into death.
Dark Mother, keep the spirits
you hold within your hands.
Souls eternally bidden,
soaked and seeped into the land.
Dark Mother, keep your fury
quivering deep within the ground.
Harm us not, but let us hear
the power of that sound.
The wheel is turning, always turning
as the sun falls from the sky.
Mother can you tell me,
oh can't you tell me why?
Dark Mother, stir your cauldron
deep living waters of rebirth.
Wash clean this wretched wreckage
we have wreaked upon the earth.
Carving Constellations by LadyofGaerdon, literature
Literature
Carving Constellations
Doctors carve out constellations,
stitch star maps into my skin,
a web of scars, a path to take
to find myself again.
My scars are sewn of haunted stars,
constellations but half-drawn;
ghosts of star-fire whispering words
that fade out with the dawn.
They took my rib from me,
ground it up, reformed it,
turned it into Eve;
made a girl with my own name:
a girl they say is me.
My fragile face now hers,
our spirit splintered,
she stands for nothing
I once stood for.
Deep scars fade
before their meanings are deciphered;
yet more maps unfold
to take their place.
Every new cut, every new stitch
remakes me into myself.
To secure my spine, they c
This Strange World That No Longer Contains You by LadyofGaerdon, literature
Literature
This Strange World That No Longer Contains You
They say I'm like you. I hope they're right. They've been saying it for a long time.
My parents always wonder how they ended up with such a polite, demure, sweet, pure little thing. Though of course you and everyone else know what a hellion I can be. But I certainly didn't get any of those aforementioned positive qualities from them. I have you to thank for those.
You raised the entire family and handfuls of our friends. You are Grama to the entire town. But you're my Grama, (even if you're really my great-grandmother), and I was the lucky one out of all of us who seems to have taken after you.
They tell me I'm positive. I'm strong. I'm re
We chased unfamiliar coastlines,
crossed a continent of earth,
abandoned Northwest shorelines
like broken shells upon the beach;
drove straight ahead, towards looming Atlantic,
laid down roots in an East Coast state
without a shoreline.
But I missed my rocky beaches,
crashing waves swirling sea-spray
against wind-reddened cheeks,
breathing life into salted lungs.
So we chased the Atlantic northward,
up the coast, snaking up Route One,
a wending wave of rocky coastline.
I leaned to touch the water,
and it flowed fast from my fingers -
'til I turned, and
the Atlantic chased me up the beach,
caught me fast in its swell,
froze me in place
I won't forget all I've found
Oh, you can't convince me
As this life fades into the background
I close my eyes and dream of what I could be
Distant shadows show the way
Oh, into the twilight
Lead me back to yesterday
Before I made the choice to lead a "real" life
Dancing moonlight
Whispering leaves
Tease this ghost inside of me
Can't return without your will
With every breath I feel the chill
Life is slipping out of me
To meet the voices in the trees
Don't leave me here
To face the light
Call me back into the night
Don't leave me here to face the dawn alone
Bring me home
Starlight burn emotion deep into these thirsting eye
You promised me, my love, you see, and I shall not forget.
We climbed the tower stairs as the bell solemnly chimed.
"If life forbids our love, then in death we shall wed."
You took my hand, we kissed our last, and off the edge we stepped.
But you let go, so I alone, plunged into the night.
But you promised me, my love, you see, and I shall not forget.
So I wait for you now, my love, for I know you must regret
Your eyes were flick'ring candles as you watched me die.
"If life forbids our love, then in death we shall wed."
You'll see me there again, some night, waiting by the tower steps.
You'll take my hand, I'll lead you up, up into the s
It doesn't matter that I can't see your eyes, love.
I've already memorized the deep azure,
and if I stare deeply into the night sky above
I can find their hue, their shimmer in the twinkling starlight.
So it is of little matter that they remain closed
as I lie beside you on your bed of satin,
twisting my fingers through your long, dark hair.
It is longer than when I last saw you,
as you drew shallow, shaky breaths, and I drew you against me,
your frail form clutching with feeble strength
before they took you away.
They didn't want us together, love, you see.
So they hid you away from me, tried to tell me you were gone.
But I knew