Sunday, November 10, 2013

section 83 of Fire Exit

Carve silence, churl, carve
absence into aroma
you don’t miss their faces you miss their sheen

ælfscin or aura, the light around one
that makes her who or him she is,
elf-shine the preter-human shown,

faërie folk are what we must become,
elves are not some belated ancient lingerers
they are our future selves

keen wise dangerous and rife with pleasures
we catch a glimpse of them sometimes
when the moon or noon be right

and the shadow falls
they are we will be
and till then be quiet, read your tree.