It's Still Life

If Thou Hast the Wit 

Heaven laid frost cold. 
Old bones were these mountains made  
for the sea bellows.

     and when the sky darkens 
     with mahogany -

Fates claim the moon's realm.  
They round the day rolling on, 
measuring the years of man. 

     and storm snd smoke are 
     swirling reign -

Dark is drawn as dew drops.
Dales wear a waning moon. 
Speak, if thou hast the wit.

This is the start of new series of Found Poetry sourced from Ragnarök, The Elder or Poetica Edda,  Commonly known as Sæmund’s Edda, a study of Teutonic Mythology and the elemental powers in chaos, Translation Series Vol. II, .st. 20-.24/47 – pg 129 released under the terms of CCO 1.0, Universal Public Domain. Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use. Images and poetry ©️Misky 2006-2024.