by Gabriel Forrest
Through grass, sharp moonlight, he runs from the prophetess, to brave
The leaves, subterranean green, with shades that gently sway.
He, hounded after, by a life of spears, pushes a way,
Crosses the edge, with her. She, who he ran with, sought to save,
Takes back her wrist, they by forest engarlanded, here to stay.
She looks at him: We did good. Of self, this they don’t believe,
But from each other receive, mirrored across abyss, reprieve.
Above the treeline, a light scrolls. They lay, watch the display.
A pageant. Rose-reds burst, like dreams of bright, migrating birds.
Fireworks, worldwide, hueing earth’s altar, its seelengrund.
In the cities countless eyes gaze up, like star-dazzled herds,
Dimmed by blood-verdant, summer night, awaiting kiss, or lance-wound –
Then, it stops. The globe, dark, groans in the mystery. The two sit.
Breaths strum, hearts tap, symphonic. The universe, finally tuned
To a new station. The pale sky hummed, projected, blue-lit.
She felt for his hand, entwining hers in his. No more words.
A world that, as it ends, loves you for having cherished it.
______
Gabriel Forrest is a poet from Southwest Missouri. His work can also be read in KEEP PLANNING.
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