Storm

From bronzed frame,

I looked at the moon

Amidst the storm,

Anchored and

Grey laced sewn,

Three faced sky

With maiden, mother

And crone

Photo blazed

Figures of Ancient Rome

Fully phased

To follow another

Behind the clouds,

Through week’s lit up

Window

Cranking their shadows

Wound

Into the night,

The hiss,

The rise, the calling

Cries of trees

Rustling,

‘Goddess, goddess, goddess’,

Circling

Limbs embedded

Upon waning

Lunar shrine

To fall,

Fall apart unaddressed

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Author:

Amber R Walker, Hull, Creative Writer, Bookmaker, Lover of art

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