The black branches contradict the sky
they snag against its emerald cloth
The empty smithy nigh high
in squalid water
casts its furtive shadow.
The boy with steeped brow
rubs his pale eyes,
pallid under the dazed night
he is drunk with lament
a counternance with foretold death
Apr 21, 2012
Apr 21, 2012 at 3:09 PM UTC
The black branches contradict the sky
they snag against its emerald cloth
The empty smithy nigh high
in squalid water
casts its furtive shadow.
The boy with steeped brow
rubs his pale eyes,
pallid under the dazed night
he is drunk with lament
a counternance with foretold death
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