Wicked World Right

Wicked World Right
© Surazeus
2023 12 26

When gray clouds shroud our world in gloom, 
and wet brown leaves on towering oaks 
hang listless far below eternity, 
small flock of deer gather in my backyard, 
glaring at me lit gold in large bay window, 
to play tense drama of their social scene. 

The young buck with four-pointed horns adjourns 
three young does behind the rotting fence 
to browse on tender leaves of apple trees, 
but charges the younger buck who escapes, 
stares at me as I photograph their game, 
then herds them across the leaf-plastered street. 

Trotting with tense caution among tall oaks, 
Cernunnos guides his does across house lawns 
who lurch and trot around reindeer and sled, 
carved from wood, when another car glides by, 
startled into bold defiance by beams 
of headlights which terrify the gloom. 

Dim light of heaven glowing through tall oaks 
fades into stark silver of timeless fear 
that waits for some faceless monster to strike, 
but silence wins by lingering in dim shadows 
without perilous despair of street lamps 
that refract divine light through sprinkling mist. 

Invisible in silver evening glow 
beyond tangled web of leafless oak limbs, 
the mellow moon hides her delicate face 
behind cold veil of mist that wets my face 
with aching sorrow of the signless road 
where nameless travelers drive somewhere else. 

I see no ghosts of refugees from wars, 
who follow Moses on cold desert roads 
to escape jungles where gangs of thieves reign, 
invade this neighborhood with hungry hope, 
so I look up at ancient towering oaks 
to see if they have found home with the crows. 

Though only flocks of deer, squirrels, and crows 
dwell in winter-wet dusk of Spiderwood, 
weird moonlight that makes this wicked world right 
illuminates large sprawling red-brick homes 
that dot wild rugged hills of ancient oaks 
where people hide from shadow of the dusk. 

Face lit by lightbulb of the secret moon, 
I gaze from glowing comfort of my home 
at faceless ghosts who wander spooky woods 
of ancient oaks with secrets they conceal, 
and feel timeless beauty of paradise 
pulse from core of this dream world I create.