Mind His Swift Arm Daughter

• Michael Steyger, Grade 19
• Poetry
• 2009

Sombre as a midnight sigh
like smoke off the pyre, like hair off the head.
I exhale and the void remains.

our friends hung high above
the door, hanging on rusty hopes.
the wolves were gathering, i hope
to see them off

you cant think this way, off
in the blue horizon, unless it was you.
the berated child is left under the careful watch of Orion & Mensa there for
a single purpose
regretted.

Mind his swift arm daughter, he means to see you off.