Scuttled

Twilight.

All ashes and ache, 

I hover beneath the loose blue lake of sky.

where crow wings sing like slick of oars

And fireflies light their goblin torches, flit and flick 

of darkling gleam. 

Backlit clouds scull across the sky,

streaming a higgledy-piggledy calligraphy of runes 

to untether my scuttled hope and

sweeten my ale to caramel cream.

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Thanks for writing!
Jacqueline