L e s h e n

Children of the wood 

Hiding in its forest 

Nomina rests from blinded eyes, 

Crowned with a spriggan limbed field-circlet 

Its tapestry of blackened pine, 

Towering over ancient stones, 

To the offering meadow of Arcadia 

For a passage held by obol'd crow. 

In the hole where the whole of academia left 

Its hunters invoked through totem, 

That their lives be safe, in woodlands preyed, 

From the spitting coals of old Hades robe.