nocturnal season

somehow the nocturnal season upon us
the certain celebration of our doom
who might dance a dance of ghosts
inviting the angelic
as well as the earthbound

tricky antics of the harvest season
-- stalking pumpkins with bow and arrow,
drinking vintage blueberry meade
dancing on the river rocks,
divining futures from constellations
inside the melted sphere of snow
surrounding the driftwood bonfire
the chill is held at bay,
like the wilderness that surrounds us,

we seek comfort in the isolation
which superceeds loneliness,
pragmatic sometimes sentimental
about our ties to the land
spanning past the duration of life
the stars are our sisters
the trees are our friends


we look to the clear sliver mooned sky and
tracing the flicker of a faint aurora
the green ribbon electrical charged
and serpentine, sparkling
river of sky raging above
the glacial and lunar wilds

in isolation we seek comfort
for a primitive type of pain