The Night in Question

The Night in Question
You ask again,
about the night in question?
that night in question, three thousand years ago
when drawing down the moon was forbidden, forbidden to you
so very very long ago

Your fingertips touching his thigh as you watched me g... dying leaves
fall as winter tears, falling, stabbing at the snow
making the deadly icicles
hidden just below.
Was that the night in question so very long ago?

I see you: lonely, vulnerable and standing
standing too close to him
as I am hidden in the ice
in the ice  under the snow
your warm fingertips just touching his thigh,   I am hidden just below.

The Raven now is silent
Her muse is sleeping, her bed the gentle wind
but I can hear her still: the Raven singing
singing under the ice,  under the snow
Was that the night in question, three thousand years ago?

London F. Bus

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