My Poetry
Again, This
Aois Dana
A Bag of Spring
For A Wedding
Little Brother
Ostara - Mist and Wings
Rainy Day
Some Murdering Secret
Sun and Rain
What Comes of Wings
Turning Of The Wheel
    For my Mother, who knows why.
Unspoken, oh Knight,
I wrote of your death,
Never fancying it would truly happen.

In childish visions, I dreamed myself alone
Imagined no pain came of it,
For you were always there.

Now faced with this Truth,
To all things, there is the semblence of endings,
I do not know what answer to give.

My heart aches within me,
For there is no denying what I know
Only a postponement, indeterminancy.

How to face the knowledge
That some day it may be my voice
My will that speaks your death?

Tonight I light incense, praying
Hope against fear,
That this will never come to pass.

What a burden for an unwary daughter
Some innocent supposing 
Transformed into nightmare

	A shadow horse that staggers out of the dark,
	clicks white teeth together, laughing
	and is gone, like a ghost.

© Anne Cross, 2000

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Created: June 26, 2000
Last updated: June 26, 2000