The hunter's moon

                       

The hunter’s moon is high tonight

above the cold, fragmented ground.

Out of the stones and earth and trees

the colours bleed.

Beware the hunter’s footfall

and the shadow of his hound.

 

Silent are the forests

where the snake and lizard lie,

and the ancient soil where man once slept

is silent too.

No cry of joy or pain is heard

beneath the deep, black sky.

 

Where the remnants of the cities rise

above neglected graves of State,

the blind eyes of the houses stare

but throw no light

upon the dark arena

where the traveller must wait.

 

The last child has walked this land,

forest and city are still;

only snake and lizard eyes

shall, in cold blood,

be witness to

the moment of the kill.

 

The hunter’s moon is high tonight

above the cold, fragmented ground.

Out of the stones and earth and trees

the colours bleed.

Beware the hunter’s footfall

and the shadow of his hound.