Saturday, July 30, 2022

The Widow

Adorned in sorrow blacker than the endless night,

golden threads of magic wrapped around her;

so well she knows the hour when souls take flight,

haunted by the mystery that enshrouds her.

Dark trees hide the moonlight,

dark shadows lace the air around her.

Some faint music drifting on the mist

comes from deep beneath her breast

then spreads around her.

Like a shimmering halo, it surrounds her.


Dancing through the vaporous, breathless night,

darkness like a silken gown she wears;

so quietly she spins, her dreams take flight

like sparks exploding far across the air.

A fire has burned from deep beneath her breast

and left a golden scar emblazoned on her.

Who knows the shadowy hidden path she takes

when on the ancient sky

the moon above her

watches like a cold and silent lover?


Who knows what name she whispers still,

when cold echoes of the night surround her,

chanting secret incantations as the mist draws out

like eternity before her?

Some memory has burned itself into her soul,

some web of magic on her heart is woven.

She casts her dreams like nets 

on midnight’s sacred sea,

and scatters them like ashes

on dawn’s oceans.


-Ramey Channell



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