Tag natural_supernatural
space When a whale dies in the deepest of seas her fall is the song that angels us all. No longer buoyant with air from above, her bulk is down- ballast for great depths. Falling slow—weeks, sometimes months— sharks and crabs … Continue reading ͛... mehr auf blueoran.wordpress.com
I’ll thank the surly male tuxedo cat for ushering me back Outside. For years Domino has showed up for food and never let me close; feral nature bullied him to bourne beyond my touch. It took five years … Continue reading →... mehr auf blueoran.wordpress.com
space I spent years in booze’s blackest forest, blundering every night from road to bar to road to bed like some hunter-gatherer of the Abyssal Age, so deep and lost inside the wild of uncorked spirits that blackout was the only … Continue reading U... mehr auf blueoran.wordpress.com
space All yesterday the South was beset by rain, stormy in places and just drippy in others, dark and chill everywhere. A few days ago worst-ever vortex cold and now a Gulf sheet endlessly squeezes itself out. In the I … Continue reading →... mehr auf blueoran.wordpress.com
space Hear me and you’re witched; sort and I’ll derange; scatter and I’m found. But name me and I’m gone, into wilds you’ll never recognize as such. Nothing’s changed down all these years, though my folk have dried to vellum: … Continue reading →... mehr auf blueoran.wordpress.com
space I spent years in booze’s black forest, blundering every night from road to bar to road to bed like some hunter-gatherer of the Abyssal Age, so deep and lost inside the wild of uncorked spirits that blackout was the only … Continue reading →... mehr auf blueoran.wordpress.com
The renewal’s out there in a great wide haze lingering in deep night like the world’s own shade or ours—who can say—black and void except where the streetlights delve it, or a passing car, a lingering width of fume … Continue reading &... mehr auf blueoran.wordpress.com
Tonight, thank Heaven, Your hand is close,even heavy on my brow. Has it been that long?Like a mineshaft is History, deep and cold; all our past lives labor somewhere in it, hearingthrough the wall the voices of distant singersfrom … Continue reading ... mehr auf blueoran.wordpress.com
space She came up from the sea of night to teach me her wet druidry. “Here is Womb,” she rasped through a larynx of gale, pointing to the sea inside her scales. “The water of birth and firstness, blue glitters … Continue reading →... mehr auf blueoran.wordpress.com
space Hear me and you’re witched; sort and I’ll derange; scatter and I’m found. But name me and I’m gone, into wilds you’ll never recognize as such. Nothing’s changed down all these years, though my folk have dried to vellum: … Continue reading →... mehr auf blueoran.wordpress.com