Sonnet

[ljgeoff]

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Arabus, When Spurned

They will spin a gyre in macabre ballet
When, soft, summoned to the salted circle.
Whirling mad to the geas they must obey
Shreaks and moans echo fierce as they hurtle

Aloft, the moon draws clouds across her face
And the stars leap back like frightened children.
What searching woman finds no hiding place
There is no haven here, nor ever been.

Like crying hawks with spectral talons dire,
Cruel laughter drowns the wretched, sky-flung screams.
So, snatched and borne up high and ever higher,
Enplaced upon the alter of his dreams.

Future rift, your smold'ring soul bursts afire
In the glowing furnace of my desire.