I
to the dawn
of which some men spoke and others not
as if afraid of the harsh day which may follow
also the night
II
the 3 of them orphans
in a sky from which all the stars had been poured also the colour blue
it had bled out to the left of time
III
as if a soldier spawning orphans in his wake at war
might pray his daughter
drop off the edge of the earth to land on some better planet
IV
there were none
V
they had each other though
the sun and the moon and the young man
actors with no part
no tourguides left through the canyons of the universe
the sun cold as on the last day of its white hot passion burning
like some unseemly ritual conducted by the wild tyranny of the sea at dusk
VI
the moon flipped like a coin
its dark side invisible still
and the young man lost
like the Little Prince on some strange planet
not of his choosing
VII
tell me why child
you know nothing
yet understand everything
Flynnpoetry 