Our Lady of the Bog

Twilight heightened

Stars as chitinous eyes

Dinosaur-laced striations, Corn Kings have died

Beneath skies Titan-sized since the moist crowning of infant Time

Brooding fenlands oozing bog stink

Ancient lingerings, away from all the hinderances

Me alone in the flaying wind, walking the course of these leys

Tiger eye colour of everything

Dun and rangerly, dangerously alike

That mimery in a less memorious mind makes for a confounding sojourn

That sad pile of stones the only memory of a lost, lonely, frozen soldier

Stone dead when they found him, blue-toed by his post

Around him hosts of dead men like doll votives, open-throated.

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