The Shore at Dusk

The Shore at Dusk

                                                    Barra de Navidad. March 11, 2007


As night builds, overhead, its lowering roof
And the sea settles to its evening prayers,
Homing frigate birds, in pagan fashion,
Weave the wheeling, intertwining path
That Celtic witches used in former time
To avert the evil eye and send back curses
Upon all enemies who sought to follow.

Along the rim of the ocean, embers glow.

The fringe of day that trails the setting sun
Has ever borne a sense of vague foreboding,
For then the demiurge that men call nature
Whispers awake the spirits of the night.

The ancient gods stir in their sealed tombs
On the peaks of the high sierras. The white hare
Sits on the hilltop. Flickering disquiet
Haunts the margins of the fire's light.

Bats and brujos swoop in mingled flight
As mind and nature merge at the edge of night.




(brujo, [pron. 'bruho'] m. sorcerer, witch)