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Read: ELEANOR

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ELEANOR

The night was frosty, with symphonies

of the silent hour

My blind fluttered, mountains and

rocks cowered

Silent footfalls at my door. Is that you,

Eleanor

Soft-shoed from the vault?’

Vacant was my gaze, a formless

woolgathering anon

Who’s knocking on my door!

The storm, a raging bull. Some wrathful

deity crawling on my floor

Probing the cleavage of the night, but

a raven cried no more!

Are you the accursed, harbinger of

the underbelly

Deep in the shadows, where words

pry no more Some vile testament to import, from

my love Eleanor

It flittered its feathers, chestnut eyes

wiggled, and spouted—by no means,

no more!

Ghostly monotone, grasped the wind

Cracking its bones and mandible

Dry dirges buried the landscape, with

symphonies of the silent hour

I seek the dead among the living, the

living among the dead

Ancient lore to rustic people, tell me

Oh raven on my door

Onward on my doorframe, a wild cologne

freeze-up my ribs

Cutting through my benumbed senses

And left me wholly dull

But it cried no more!

Shall I see her someday, in the tabernacleof the moon

Like Euterpe, the muse boy, in the Abby

of the sages

Communing, the twilight of our love

Its wary eyes, outdoors. Daylight, hatching

from eggshells

The bird of dawn blared its serene on

the grasslands

The turtle dove on its distant mantel tootled

Darkness immured in the bowels of the sky

It teetered its feathers, swizzle into silence,

By no means, no more!

Echem John 
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