The Gate

Who are these dark-eyed angels
who gather like wolves around me,

intimate yet wild?

The mind silently counts them
like it counts the hills

that covet the house. Then,

I cried out the three names
of God "save me from myself,

from my sadness, my ruinous life".

From the woods, a claw reached in,
mercifully scooping my heart out.

The last sound I heard in this
world where fog meets light

was the yard gate securely
latching behind me.

Perhaps, I have become the shadows
that haunt us.

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