Tuesday, April 30, 2013

The Watchman's Son

Above the plain the watchman walked,
the night aflame with torchlight.
I, a lonely traveler, stalked
across the plain, my home across
my back. The tower's gate in sight,
I hailed the man and found his son
who wandered through the night.

I asked for shelter and he told me
that in the kingdom's name
he would give me leave
to remain on the border
between dark and light
as long as I never again
fell in love with the night.

"It was a year better spent elsewhere,"
I said. "In the air, the ground,
in some hole of a cave
retreating from the world.
The night is merely a wanderer
without a home to find."

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