Alone in this cold and windy frontier
Atop this pine-built nest of crows
She can see as far into the approaching night
As mine own heart can throw
All the future of Man ahead and crashing
Like the unbent dreams of a wistful child
Atop the bridled shoulders of a quieted father at the edge of life
This forest of salt and air and gull-cried oblivion
An eternity away from the womb
This ocean of worldly placenta
Time like an arrow; day like a bow
Broken by the hide of an oft-hunted beast
She dreams of the light
Of the warm red respite
Come only by the shores of the East.
