Indigo Flame

It’s a bit early, but as I anticipate the fall, I’m already thinking of the witchy evenings that give rise to speculations, whispers, quick glances behind.

Indigo Flame

It’s like a thorn tree that throws no shadow
Across the moon-smoke field in the fall
The thing your dreams insist really matters
Looms up behind you, impossibly tall

From underneath the dark coat you are wearing
A wingless bird flies free to the clouds
And when your heart sweeps past normal caring
You hear him sing through the mist to the crowds

But you forgot the figure behind you
And so you swivel to ask him his name
But you can’t speak with his face so close to you
Or hold his eyes with their indigo flame

The distant woods seem to beckon you to them
But they just want to conceal you beneath
The quilt of pine needles, heavy and soothing
After he alters you with his yellow teeth.

~ S.K. Orr