The Gates
Standing watch at the gates.
The night sky cold in its darkening.
Too many this time of year.
My soul cries for lost light.
In the distance a flame dances.
Requiem for those lost.
Pity for those found.
Cold steel rests in my hand.
Time is fleeting the night wanders.
Stars gleaming casts no light.
Hope is lost among the weeping
Standing watch at the gates.
C 2009
Kate Fox
In the early 2000’s I was privileged to write, compete with, and publish my poetry.
‘The Gates’ came from a dream I had one dark and stormy night
after watching too many old knight in shiny armor movies. I was surprised how dark the image was in my mind. My hope is that this piece stirs experience with in you and brings images for you to explore.
From time to time I will post these pieces, just to share.
At present I am deep in the throws of a novel, daily making me think and feel, it is also greying bits of my hair, as I wake up from dreaming the next plot. Hopefully it to will be published.
Kate
Baedon
HC Kessler