Night-drums

Drop-down cloud-drapes shining,
Wind-shaped dawn driven, riding
A-glow moon rides over weather-worn mount,
To deep valley less darkly grey-grim cold,
Where sun shines sharp in fickle sickle shape
And moon-lost sky burns brazen sun-god gold.

Plucked, parted, little lights of dark,
Peer out curious, caution-crowded sparks,
Fire of the sun and lesser light than moon,
Candle-flame flicker, death’s drum beat
Call life lifted, angel heart-heat
Bent – rent – recklessly rifted, diamond-stud sand
Through sky-peaks sifted, burned in black-charred sky
Hurling heights where they forever – dead – dance, die.