Apeiron.*

Tohu wa-bohu.




When I was young,
No more than eight,
I saw the moon quiver.
It shook like a gong.
I wanted to know why.

A couple of years later,
I saw a fireball
spiral through blackness,
Little twin circles in the
Night.  

Fifty years later,
I know now why
The Earth orbits the Sun
Orbits that great dust spiral
(well, hopefully),
But the moon is still
Too distant
And fire is
Gone from the
sky.

The dead canaries
are still screeching
as the wolves claw at the door.

They told me that dead
birds mean new
beginnings but all I see
are shattered
hopes.

I looked the corpse
in the eye and
I swore that
I could see the shape
of tomorrow in smoke
and razor teeth
reflected in glassy beads.

I paid the hag
in gold coin,
and then the witch
took the rotted
thing away,
still shouting.

The dead canaries
are forever screaming
as the wolves break down the door.