The Gargoyles

The gargoyles scream unheard
over the vast horizon.
the moon hangs by a thread
ready to plummet from sight
with so long until dawn

The anguish of the gargoyles
so plain in their faces
embarrasses the stars.
They would like to hide, but the few
gauzy clouds are not sufficient
to that end.

The smell of the gargoyles’ rage
falls flat at their feet,
too heavy to be carried by the crisp
cold air which is still as the hands
on the broken clock

The gargoyles and I
watch and wait together
with so long until dawn

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