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Spiders Dance

Hens grow teeth
in graveyards,
picking black daffodils
in the shades
of broken stones.
Shadows smile
and hair grows
thick on toads,
frogs laugh,
old blood dripping
from their lips.
Spiders waltz
hanging shrouds on
the dried skeletons
of grinning worms.

There is
even the Ghost
of a Gargoyle
riding
his night colored mare.

(Untitled)

It creeps
through like night
in a country
of worn fields,

Taking
the last daylight
out in a
lightened dusk.

It sits
in a resting
breath as
peace, and seems

As sleep,
giving those
a gentle dream
of death

 

Copyright © 1968-71 Michael Marsh

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Michael Marsh is the author of "Translations from the Gibberish," "Sand," "Next to Water," and numerous poems and book reviews appearing in Star*Line, The Transformation Times, and others. He edited poetry at Portland State University in the 1970s. Marsh died in the early 1990s; these poems are printed with custodial permission.



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Current Issue
25 Mar 2024

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