Waxing shadows
pull the sun from being –
the Dark calling his own
plump poisoned fruit from branch and bow.
The word is given:
this day taken for
these deeds remembered.
A curved road rider –
a cannon shot soul:
remains of a summer
past reproach or denial.
Irrigated green is Caesar’s grave
warmed by words of deeds;
hailed in song
and naming these
Summer days of death.
August 2014 2019
WandeRoseD 