The First Gale of a Long Cold Winter

This is a piece that’s a part of the first section of my as-of-yet unpublished science-fiction collection, Fend Off the Armada.

© Adam Marx 2016

From Part II. Rising Tides

The First Gale of a Long Cold Winter

The day those laws were passed;

Convulsive landscapes under slants of light

Wrangled in ways we couldn’t guess

Children become mourners behind such drums

That beat our humanity from us on out,

And compass needles are charged no more,

Their powers of solution now fallen gone

With every new law that became like stone

It felt as if angels died twice again

Light little laughs gone on the breeze

Stains and distant strains of sweetness run dead

And it was born and started thus

The first gale of a long cold winter,

Freezing stoic, black satin though aloof —

Such an ignorant cadence perished thinner

Yet how those enigmatic riddles lie —

Told lies from the fiery tongue that spake —

Driven stakes between our fingers, burst and agonized,

Popping darkened bloody bubbles — has it become too late?

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