1. Calling

She departs from her castle now,
silver, a-shimmer with deceit,
in whose glance the stars, those dim
and ominous stars begin to shiver.

Her eyes arrest them, as dams
against the final rush of time,
like a child's scream, or broken
lights scattered along the side of a river.

(From the dark, where
the stench of the ghouls are not there
but shadows flee past you—
the dark cores of diamonds fall.)

Then in yesteryear's migrant dream
their gods awaken, sun-like
in the blanching green sky,
soft and murderous, calling.