Limn-Edge
©December 27th, 2018
By Vijaya Sundaram
The glassy lake faces off a waning moon
And a sole loon cries out a ghostly warning.
Ripples in the ice go all the way down,
Where the face of the universe sleeps
Smiling, eyes closed, frozen.
There are songs in night-time woods,
And fear and hunger, and sudden death,
But mostly, sleep. Sleep lingers on eyelids
Like a mist on a moisture-breathing forest.
Foxes slip through moonlit shadows.
In and out they go, those dream-stealers,
And look for vagabond rabbits,
Scattered lust-crazed, cotton-tailed rabbits
Hopping through the underbrush.
A fawn nestles close to her mother,
Deep in an unseen bower.
Winter will not harm them.
There is still food in places only they know.
I live on the edge of dreams with them.
I live and wait for their stories,
And listen to their heartbeats,
And long to protect all of them.
I can do so only when I walk alone
In the land of shadows and song,
And dreams and nightmares,
Poised at the very verge of waking.
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