Augur of Prague

Two spinnings of desire spooled,
as endless mobbings of tendrils
that so to Adam and Eve resemble
but did not adhere, my mind tan
tossed in the lows and highs of
crying spines with fallen homes.
I wepted for the creeking of old
boots that marched, wood blocks
with sand stuffed between shook
under each blow of changing guard.
The fragrance of past nights and
wreckage from the flight still haunt
the wallows and waves, that eddied
city’s raved with masks of starless
nights crested in broken time’s delight,
As born from a soon sightless man
that clogged the gears of time and
gave sun its climb and moon its shine,
as if a second sky lived in an old city’s tide.


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