Scion Podium

Dragon woven into terrestrial kindred and bound to the rising day.
Thrust into motion between electromagnetic fingers, we reach out
For a trunk of life rolling beneath the undertow of a silent domain,
Whose folds reveal the glittering of multifaceted pupils arrayed.  

When Blood Walks

Drawn upright towards a celestial favor we are presented with the night.
Swimming downriver through starlit dappled waters we locate the muted.
As a body rolls through the shining clear cloudless season of desolation,
Smaller bodies interpenetrate each other's skins in organized  profusion.

Prestorem

The blue plastic clockwork egg timer appears to stare resolutely ahead.
A hammer laid down alongside a paint brush pen reflects old lamp light.
The burnished surface of its curved claw looks fresh split by a cleaver.
The individual who left it there now long gone as a shadow at night.