Into the Blue…

Augustus’ Garden

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

August 2014

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