Muses in Amber / In This Place of Bleak Shadow by G. Louis Heath

Muses in Amber

He loved the immortal images captured 

In amber of long ago. Bees and flies of a 

Millennium past peered stoically into his

Eyes and flew lyrics across the long divide

Of silence. Wasps and hornets likewise stung

His mind into poetic flight, muses in resinous

Time capsules resounding in the ear. They

Galvanized his spirit, cleared his mind of the

Mists of time, those bedeviling scrims against

Enlightenment. He held up the amber to let the

Sun shine on the fossilized muses in their tiny

Museums. Anon, they flew to his pen. What they

Had to say can be read in the lines of his poems

Where those timeless insects crawled for meters. 

In This Place Of Bleak Shadow

We hiked deep into tunnels of the forest,

Down stopes and drifts of shadows hiding 

From the sun. Splintered bottles glittered 

In the duff of piney woods. A soft breeze 

Whispered brittle needles over the jagged, 

Winkling remains of a natural fact, secret,

Adolescent. So we surmised. A melee of

Flies and ants swarmed on curious, carious 

Attractions, splotches of beguiling sweet, 

Signaling silent alarm. A crow flew from the 

Forest floor, dangling a shred of pallid human 

Finger. Dark messenger cawed a grim dirge,

Chilling our occiputs into primal reflex in this

Fir cave of bleak shadow, so hostile to the sun.

G. Louis Heath, Ph.D., Berkeley, 1969, is Emeritus Professor, Ashford University, Clinton, Iowa. He enjoys reading his poems at open mics. He often hikes along the Mississippi River, stopping to work on a poem he pulls from his back pocket, weather permitting. He has published poems in a wide array of journals. His books include Leaves Of Maple and Long Dark River Casino.