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Jul 2019
Lightning strikes in the distance. The winds
Howl, moons echo in faraway orbits, the wolves
Throw up their heads and scream into the night.

A gust of moonlight rushes through your focus,
Cursing your vision with faint outlines, phantoms
Of your window-sill. You think you hear the sea
But you have no blue. None but your curtains,
Flapping in the gale, raising like a crescendo

Up to the coldest stars, spread out across the sky,
Brush-stroke on canvas. Violins, the taste of coffee.
The wolves howl. Moons echo with your paintwork.
© Lewis Hyden
Written to 'The Death of Aase' by composer Edvard Grieg.
Lewis Hyden
Written by
Lewis Hyden  18/M/London, UK
(18/M/London, UK)   
367
     Lewis Hyden and Fawn
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