The Shade Dwellers

Like moths in the moonlight,

I felt the goodness flutter

round my left cheek, and

over the flap of my rigid eardrum...

Is it gone now?...

No, I still feel it's residue upon

my beating heart...

it lingers...

You can hear them humming!...

The warriors cry from the other side

of the world, and still you can hear

the drum beat hum reverberate, and

bounce back through the tiny cracks

in the cities conscious mask.

There are those who live beneath

the walkways and avenues...

The concrete is their carapace;

these little armadillo dwellers...

...Perhaps you'll see them in

the cellar of your thought...

...They are not of this world,

but who, and what are we?...

...We're made to step off for the

weight that we were offered,

like a camel fills with water,

but is this Sun our Father Sun,

and this Moon our Mother Moon,

or do we have another address buried?...

Relics bake in desert heat...

The stars above when night moves in

call our eyes into their orbit...

Draw us out like snakes from skin.

Like moths in the moonlight,

I felt the goodness flutter

round my left cheek, and

over the flap of my rigid eardrum...

Is it gone now?...

No, I still feel it's residue upon

my beating heart...

it lingers...

©

9/22/20

Bunny Villaire