Mark I. Kirkmeyer


Mark I. Kirkmeyer: Shadows and MistGray mists mute vision
Shadows seen in motion
They threaten his life
Hand on his knife
Lump in his throat
Voices in eerie note
Knife clears sheath
Stomach twisted underneath
Arms lash out to throw
To strike the shadow
Mist is filled with a War Cry
from Barbarian times gone by
She is there calm and soothing
Shadows and mist moving
Her voice a key a leash
Locked to a place of peace
Heaven resides in her brown eyes
Reaching out to stop his cries
Mist releases its hold of choke
And becomes medicine smoke
Black hair roped in a braid
Memories of choices made
The mist clears to an open vale
The type of mythic tale
To a snow eagle she transforms
To flight the eagle performs

The fever breaks
The soldier wakes
Alone in a bed
It was all in his head

Author’s Note: In memory of Becca (Rebecca SaraAnne Grey Eagle). Submitted for the October 2003 IWVPA Club Theme Project, “Shadows