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Wild hunt

  • Writer: Robert Glover
    Robert Glover
  • Jun 5, 2020
  • 1 min read

Updated: Jun 5, 2020


I ride the burning arrow of autumn

chasing Luna’s ivory sickle,

a conflagration of trees

the steaming shades of

carved suns and fluttering blood

flare in roaring blended blurs

rushing past my flanks

I ride the burning arrow of autumn

a flock of oragami embers

bright as pinions peeled from phoenix wings

corkscrew through my gaze,

the bone-horned huntsman

marks my October career

and laughs harsh between oakened teeth

rough as crouched stumps

I ride the burning arrow of autumn.

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