Chapter Eleven

 

The night held close

as I wandered

my spirit unfooted

to either earth or stone

unraveled from tree

undriven by iron nail

but like the night itself

a thing of air

stripped of light

so I came upon them,

those masons who cut and carved

stone in the night

sighting by stars and battered hand.

“What of the sun?” asked I of them.

“Is not its cloak of revelation

the warmth of reason

in your shaping?”

And one among them answered,

“No soul can withstand

the sun’s bones of light

and reason dims

when darkness falls—

so we shape barrows in the night

for you and your kin.”

“Forgive my interruption, then,” said I.

“The dead never interrupt,” said the mason,

“they but arrive.”

PAUPER’S STONE
DARUJHISTAN