“o Overseer”
Alicia Beatrice
Dilute sceptres;
a rouse, a rattle
to distill cumulus.
Soft pallor of fog
shields silvery skin
of that lunar body:
Sullen selkie, o Overseer—
centuries skim the surface
of her tide; stasis—
The Orb
to surround
her faceless night,
a glimmer of light—
self-spoken transcendence,
hushed with amber
murk of elegies told,
past and present-
ly; where angels descend
unto the eye that perceives.
The shifting of shroud,
the ever-burning
of this herald, veiled.
Stare long enough
and you will be stolen
away to this other time.
Await; await and see
for whom the stasis will part.
Await; await and see
in Mind’s eye, the departed. ~Alicia Beatrice
KANE ANTHONY 