Black Eye, Yellow Eye
By Leigh Ann Hussey, 1993
Have you seen the ghosts of trees
where the riverbank was there?
Do they shiver in the breeze,
rooted high in empty air?
Have you heard the ghosts of stone
speaking in the dust you raise,
whispering to you alone
as you thread the maze?
Black eye and yellow eye watching the dissolving sky;
Black eye and yellow eye: move and live, be still and die.
How will you capture the anarchy and rapture
glaring through black eye and yellow eye?
Black eye rises on black wing,
shrugs his shoulders, folds his coat.
Yellow eye looks up to sing
broken songs with rasping throat.
Blowing glowing rings of smoke
girdling the granite stars
as the fire he awoke
glows behind the cards.
Will you cross the bridge of silver?
Will you cross the bridge of steel?
Will you cross the bridge of bone
that cleaves the crimson flood?
Will you smash the frozen veil?
Will you dare the shaman's trail?
Will you ken the tale through omens
written in your blood?
This night on the road he dies;
there will be no corpse by dawn.
Death's an order he denies;
still, sometimes he tries it on.
As you calculate your chance,
he will give no hand to guide --
he will only bid you dance,
or be swept aside.