DAY'S END: ADYAR
ERICK THACKER
Duskfall to darkfall
The
barefaced river moves.
The
curled mock-island’s query
It
ignores and seems
To
sidle back towards
The wounded west.
Daunting
dusk the egrets,
White
as pain, delicately
Conduct
their final searches.
Tall
trees and blackened
Towers
are toppling now;
A
city forgotten drowns
In
the eddies of our dream.
Under
darkfall dissembling waters
Sham
a fear of ocean death,
As
we ourselves have often turned
In
savoured terror from
The threats of love.
The
egrets are flown
Whose
loveliness gave
The leaping spirit body.
The
uncertain shore subsides
Into oneness with the sea.
And
you, pale girl….you
I
still might fear to love,
Had
I not come to fear
Those
white birds more.