Fading

piebald colors of an
unkept sky splintered,
cracked, screaming
with dripping sounds
like blue or black fall
silently behind the sun.
a mouthful of sorrows
centered on an aperture
formed from steel gray
wrought iron creating
a window for the eight
elders who steal away
fabric of violent desires
sewing the pieces
into the rugged faces of
those who worship the
night and the birds who
cry out strangely
for respect
the eyes of the vultures
sealed shut by golden
needles leaving violent
tendency to shrink
back like a withered corpse
reaching to draw back the
veil the elders take their place
high on the grid waiting for
the old woman in red to
scratch away another
day of peace .
cross-legged within the
forest of ancient wood
the elders count swatches
as delicate fingers of
butterfly's wings touch
lightly the eyes of the
blind with stars fallen from
a darkened sky
illuminating the night with
hope
©iris3690