Myth

All posts in the Myth category

The Bone Singer

Published August 29, 2014 by rlmcdermott

and in her
turning is
a turning

back to
the blue
lichen
and fleshy
moss dripping
from bare
trees where
wild gods sit
and play
songs on
white bone

she has
grown old
underneath
a silent moon
waiting for
something
that never
comes–
to be loved again

and as
her small
feet strike
stone a
note is
struck
on bone
white bone
that sings
of home–
a place she’s
never known The Bone Singer

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Prometheus Regrets The Fire

Published July 3, 2014 by rlmcdermott

Fire comes
on a cold
winter night;
it enters
without
knocking.

What is
burning
here are
sleeping
children–

Is this ash
my child–
the one
I never
held but
dreamed?

Because
I could
not love
I loved
too much–

all things
are dreams
for dreamers.Prometheus Regrets The Fire