Pursuers not far behind, as cacophonous
Caw-caw-cawing signals friend and foe alike
on a desperate chase to outrun the last and final predator
whose teeth and retractable razor claws
sharpen with age into monomolecular crystal edges
never wearying from the chase

Hourglasses shattered on sandy beach, as watches rust in brine
at the end of days the tick-tick-tocking loses meaning
save to mark the glacial but implacable footsteps of
The-One-who-Has-No-Name, existing not in life
but on the very threshold of transcendence,
the guardian of Mimir’s well

Wisdom and sorrow hand in hand, creaking of branches
a faint warning to those who cannot hear
the whispering borne upon the zephyrs
rumors of propagation, machination, a sweet trap
to rest and ignore a prophet’s broken ramblings
of the spider lily and the twilight
that will never be again 

A voice that cannot reach somebody drifts out at a walking pace
not as crow flies but as maple leaf upon the wind
surviving on unexpected mercies, last reprieves
now distant in a maison de verre filling up with night
and primal screams of dread 

Snap-hiss! Shudder and then silence comes
at last a glint of moony mischief in golden eyes
belying the wary fatigue of an endless age
when exhaustion seizes hold, and frenzied frenetic peals of laughter fade
frozen into the mosaic of flawed mirage and memory