Place at the End of the Stars
There is a place where stars made a final stand
here soft light lingers along the shadows’ verge,
Dark at the End of the Stars, the long lost land.
Mortal measurements here are void, time kept
by Turtles in storied round, lightning cast sand,
and the Karakul ewe lamb at the Gibbous step.
Stones rattle, chatter with the fresh tidal surge,
limned waters, cobalt and sea taken gold, rise
about the feet of a Rex from the Meteor Purge.
It is a monster recalled only by the oldest stones,
the monster, rueful and full of regrets, carries her
Phi, and in her hands, a socks fox with no bones.
A damp socks fox, colours mimicked by the sea,
cobalt and forsaken gold, a new stand now taken,
as Phi awaits the girl who heeded the Alder Tree.
In this place of no stars, no stories light the way.
And yet, irrational Phi holds onto that tired fox,
eyes on the sky to find constellations gone astray.
But how can one restore stars shone into dark?
Their time has come and gone, aeons now done.
Does no one ever hear it, the Prayer of the Lark?
Find Clementine…Cling, ring. The Sands of Tide—
kept by the outcast Karakul, find the Lamb of Time
for Violet Bright with the Fireflies now rides.
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