THE BLACK VALLEY POEMS

THE ANAHITA RIVER

Shadows crawling across the Valley of Split Willows

Shards of ice floating in the Anahita River

& the Mountain of the Pig lies hidden
behind a blanket of fog

She collects water at the spring

A red kite takes flight
disturbing the silence

There's a stranger at the gate

& the wind blows hard
direction Tartaros

The dying month of November

Snow mutes all sound

The stains of the past bother her none

She sees glimpses of the other side

& knows the unwanted
is best submitted to fire