Blood Moon Eclipse in the Black Forest

Rising, red and shining

Tree-tops like the teeth of a saw

but dull, not glinting,

matte black against the sky strewn with stars

like the holes in an old blanket

thrown over a lamp.

A rustle,

movement through trees,

the air sharp,

each breath a short stab

that flows in, out.

You lick your lips.

They are cracked and dry

as you sit

perched on your rock

like the songbird that lay crushed in her palm,


A blood moon eclipse,

a great, glowing orb in the sky throwing wintry light.

You look at your hands,

bleached pale like the branches of

skeleton trees

in the desert

that perished while waiting for rain

but cannot decay.

A red-orange tinge,

like blood in the bathtub

that curls and then fades

diluting itself

like pain over time.

She approaches,

her gaze not on you

but transfixed by the pool

that reflects all the stars in the sky

then her face.

You clutch your arms to yourself,

suck a breath,

as her feet sink into moss

and then crunch across pebbles

before falling silent,

as they slip softly into the water

and the silty sand,

ankles, then knees, then hips.

A fish darts, surprised,

a small splash sent whispering

and you flinch.

The waterlilies are pushed aside

and snap back

anchored by roots.

She closes her eyes

as the surface closes over her forehead

and her black curls spread

a halo of inky kelp.

Your knees crack as you stand,

clutching the stone with the snake.

By annaputsover

Translator and English tutor

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