Armies


by Pavel Chichikov

The zenith is the ceiling of a shrine –

Around the edges putty clouds and borders

Solidify, symmetrically in order

A mandala, but Christian, and the blue

Between is deep and blind, it waits

For whatever will descend to penetrate

Edge to edge the sky is stiff and tense,

The resonating, blue head of a drum –

Thunder strikes it rapidly and thrums

The zenith is a lambskin and the drum

Of planetary armies on parade –

If you could see them, you would be afraid

Visit Pavel's website at Grey Owl Press.

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