Once, the Doctor spoke to me at length
of stars and prognostications, how,
when we observe the waxing of the Moon,
everything cognate to her nature--marrow
in bones and in trees, flesh of the river
mussel--increases also. He told of tides
and how the ocean is affixed as with a chain
to moonlight. I think it must be different
in the Cave, where no light penetrates.
There, I have lost hours, whole cycles of the Sun.
At Star Chamber, I control the spheres--
a lantern hung just-so will produce the night sky
as if seen from a gorge; wobble it, and a comet,
smoky, pestilent, streaks across the Ether.
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Comments about this poem (Star Chamber by Davis McCombs )
- Chains, Col Muhamad Khalid Khan
- New Dawn, Nalini Jyotsana Chaturvedi
- The Stolen Ancient Landmark, Sir Toby
- The Book O' Life, Sir Toby
- Performing To Do Well, Lawrence S. Pertillar
- Wear a Cons Smile, Kevin Patrick
- Being aware, hasmukh amathalal
- Needed, Michael McParland
- Glory dies with memory., Rm.Shanmugam Chettiar.
- Sources and termination, Rm.Shanmugam Chettiar.
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