Royal Cauldron by Ariel Dawn

Royal Cauldron by Ariel Dawn

face, eye, eyelid, eyelash, eyebrow, göz, kahverengi

On the terrace of my room in the tower ancestors drink tea in the snow. Lately I awaken to feel them rushing for some high and holy day, suitcases open, dresses, tuxedos, gifts, bouquets, before they vanish. They remain, and the Royal Cauldron tea set, chai, cakes, oranges. Fur coats over nightclothes, eyes blue flames in silver shadows. Lawrence leans against door frame and smokes a cigar. Good path down the road, he says, and the doors are open at the Manet hotel. He holds The Forest, dark oil, to hang in the corner. Ancestors turn and stare. In his eyes they are invisible: the tea, and the lady setting out glass bottles, amber, sapphire, emerald, air.

Ariel Dawn

About Ariel Dawn

Ariel Dawn’s prose poetry recently appears in GUEST ( a journal of guest editors), Train: a journal of prose poems, dusie: the tuesday poem, talking about strawberries all of the time, and Coven Editions Grimoire. She writes with Tarot cards and oracles and lives in Victoria, British Columbia.

Ariel Dawn’s prose poetry recently appears in GUEST ( a journal of guest editors), Train: a journal of prose poems, dusie: the tuesday poem, talking about strawberries all of the time, and Coven Editions Grimoire. She writes with Tarot cards and oracles and lives in Victoria, British Columbia.

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