Fugitive Hour
Published on November 18, 2022
Fugitive Hour
Sonnet — Daily Poetry for The Master of Works #37
A fallen Peacock feather #Midjourney
Oh I have perused all Thy alphabets
And all the manner of their wielding,
Lettered in stone and wind-taunted trees,
In bodies broken and in fates whirling.
Oh I have gleaned all Thy words
And their faces vacillating, innumerable,
Planting on utterer a black poison kiss,
Marking our heads with the seal fatal.
Oh I have gleaned all Thy verses
Bringing dire whispers to singe the heart,
Thy meanings dance with our blindness
While slaying our last dream in this night.
Yet to Thee, O my Lord and King and Emperor,
I light this prayer in the confines of a fugitive hour.