Member Poem

Wild Gods

The bellowing of the ox

chant of the dedicants

shuffling round the fire

two by two, under the ash poles

like follows like,

as above, so below

thus reads the Book

but the stars

those damnable leering stars

and the tossing of trees

across the vale

the wail, low at first

growing louder, higher

these don't meet expectations

the worshipers falter

turn away from the sacrifice

face into the gale

What wild god comes now?