And like the blind men perched with hands outstretched
Who sit on the observatory rails
Their chins all pointed at the moon, they lept
And fell upon the northern cliff’s cold gale
And none of us know how they should be held,
With mighty reverence for the holes they tear?
Or only darkened pity as they spell
Commands that nestle deeper than their prayers?
I, too, do wonder often just how loud
Celestial bodies scream above our heads
Unlike the brothers faithful, i’m unvowed
To find my burdens answered by the dead
To dream, to fall, to close that yawning maw
To sink, to dream down into blackened jaws
Kell Renegar is a New Jersey based writer who works in poetry, prose, and flash-fiction. Inspired by Gothic literature, her work often includes elements of nature, dark emotions, and the occult. You can find her on Twitter @Kellrenegar.