at the Loom

images inspired from a walk at twilight with my daughter and husband

Eyes wild at the periphery
she dances with the moonlight

in shattered glimpses
the rosette is torn
from her broken body

and the ravens cry
with bloodied mouths

the color of blackberry —

children swarm their mountains,
eyes swollen shut by storms.

In twisted symphonies 
night hawks soar 
over snow capped mountains,
blistered from relentless rain.

Her body blue from the fire
radiant as a Nephilim at the Loom