Mystical Tides

Tamara Rendell


Autumn moon
incautious in the dark river

Winter’s ghost walks
with a covered face
and silver bones wait in all animals
to be bone cloth upon her shoulder
wait for her happiness in that they are silver


Drink in the heat of an ancient sun
held in the cold fire of water rising
from earth and rock
Spilling over your cupped hands
and drawn to lips and tongue
Pouring water’s memory
of the azure mist it fell from
into the chalice of your flesh
Turning your eyes skywards
with desire
for the freedom it was born of

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