Dancing The Tarantula Poem by Peter S. Quinn

Bring all the hours in
One by one they go
Someone to lose or win
Who but fate will know?
Flowers have fallen to dark
Gone to the lonely hour
Wingless is this lark
Seedless is this flower

Bring in twilight fresh
Where shadows can dance
Pondered your deadly flesh
Make it paler and blanch
Emptiness is going by
Filling the corners of old
Closing the gleaming sky
Ghosts from the dim unfold

Cry not a tear for me
Halfway into the ground
Stranger from black sea
Open to susceptible wound
Dancing the tarantula
With every dark and deep
Feeling like the Dracula
As he rose up from sleep