Almost invisible, these gods
are not immortal, not
the all-powerful deities
displayed for symbols
and slogans – some haven’t even
a name to trade your mind
and heart for, like in heaven,
where pouting angels
look down with envy
upon their pagan games.
These gods slip upon you
around a flame, surround
like darkness, touch your
shoulder, or cover the flesh
in a dry rain of oak leaves –
they breathe the memories
of all that’s gone before –
living secretly among us.
drycrikjournal 