Green Spindles

Green, blue, red, gold 

Fractal flutters in December snow

Arid peat on smoldering page,

A flittering imprint through midnight space

One tale, or two, drowning in camphor

Oh, ravenous adventures of the night.

A torpor biting from old sentences found

best to lose thyself along this setting's astoundance

One hazy glare is taking place

where pardoned presence negated chase

Purloined, in the cosmic living lens

where winter reigns, feign resplendence.

A conscience palled by pallid white

morosly invested in yester sighs

Beyond the tumbrils, beyond the heath,

Below the blade, granting the All-Father's sleep