The Temple Of The Open Sky Poem by sal carter

and burn, burn,
to the smoke in the sky,
burn, burn, burn,
the night’s a wolf’s cry,
flick, snap, hop,
and the woods glowing eyes,
snick, snap,
and the licklight’s tongue sighs.

reds, browns,
for the Cherokees moon,
burns, downs,
to the blackclouds croon,
arid plain song,
the midnight flames dream
rots to blue,
to the darks black-bruised sheen.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

And the flames are a’singing

And the histories theyre bringing

Of the plains, and the songs
And the camps, and the gods
And the skins, and the birds
And the smells, and the –
- colours that dance
past the white on the walls
of the tepees soul
sees the universe hole
and the hunters goal
that feeds on the moon

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

And the fire falls sleeping
Grey ashy grave bed
Whole camp start breathing
All the dance-dreaming thoughts
To the sleep, sleeping flames
Till they sleep,
Sleep,
Sleep,
Burn.