Deep Sky Desert

 

Ann K. Schwader

 

Their gaze is dangerous, these men & women
who choose the deep sky desert over heaven
hewed to human image.

Terra broken
down to stubborn bones & then respoken
softly, sweetly under dreaming domes . . .
small sustenance for souls sealed to the form
of void itself, of chaos ripples snaking
beneath time's fickle fabric.
Overtaken
by entropy of wonder, they yearn outward
as restlessness once spurred such seekers westward
to painted deserts stark as asteroids,
pristine as novae.
Eyes like these, employed
in keeping watch through nights that shift like sand
beneath their feet & reemerge unplanned
as lovers' lifetimes fled, hold nothing focused
too fondly or too long.
Their only locus
hunts the lost arroyos of the heart:
cold coyote moon who called them from the start.

 

 

 


Author Bio

Ann K. Schwader lives and writes in Westminster, CO. She is an active member of both SFWA and HWA. Her poems have recently appeared in Tales of the Unanticipated, The Magazine of Speculative Poetry, Icarus Ascending, Star*Line, and elsewhere.

Her Lovecraftian dark poetry collection The Worms Remember was published this spring by Hive Press.

Other poems by Ms. Schwader
Markian 348
You Know They're Watching

 

 


 

 

"Deep Sky Desert" Copyright © 2001 Ann K. Schwader. This poem first appeared in Tales of the Unanticipated in 1997. All rights reserved.
Reprinted by permission of the author.

 

This page last updated 10-22-01.

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