Ravens swimming indolent on wings
Buoyed black by white tainted currents
Frigid winds warmed not
By lunar rays persistent gelid glue-like grip
Persistent, as bad memories, or residual pain.
The midnight sun would not come
Until the birds reached journeys end,
And the limp insipid sun remained hidden
Behind horizons refuge.
The two birds circled,
Each clutched a leafy twig
One a memory,
The other a thought,
Both of how the world once was
And would be warmed again.
But the start was long behind,
And the finish far ahead,
And thus the nights were endless
Though multi-spectrum lit like day at night
And thought and memory,
Were brumal bound,
The heat a distant memory
The though adrift on endless ice
Both held aloft by feckless birds
That lingered in between,
And lounged regardless
At journeys twilight point,
Whilst an Old man slept
Ignorant of neglect.
D16 #NaPoWriMo, another using last year’s prompt, of a Journey’s midpoint.