O, Hesperides, there is so much we have
left behind – do you remember that old life?
over and over you are sighing amongst

the chestnut trees
the west wind rests on the lake, washing the
dusk with her silver
of dark riders

beneath the oaks we rest, lacking not song
nor lyre, nor lyrics sweet

what is it that fills me?
sovereign hands, blue seas, tender pine-eaves,
the intimacy of these dreams
which tyrannize me?

I see the ancient light on the golden brow
of my beloved

flower-lit cliffs where wildgrasses give
growth to everything

evening moss, flourishing springs,
fruit trees that hang heavy in the garden
of your longing

you name me by my animal name,
keeper of the river
where the moon does her pale lit
dance & soft waters hum their wealth
of earth’s gentlest soils

fear flutters like moths to light
where all is bright & blinding about
our tender hands

the limitless dark of your evening,

how free you keep me,
nobody’s daughter,
beloved by no one

we watch the black ships of my old kin leaving
our harbor behind

the mother of my old life spending her
days deep in the black throat of earth
a moon drowned in clover

now winter-sparrows churn from their dark sanctum,
frozen, invisible, dumb as hands – such is your will

heralding the simple, beseeching the cinder
of every heart

your skin the book of every twilight

lunar-mouthed, plum-boned, hands of ash &
cast of crows

how far we have come, how lush our bed,
how weighed with love

the ground mottled with birdwing
dark with past’s names & gone

how in your kingdom, you know all the
quiet things,
the moonlit dance of deathless faye

the hundred nights of my animal sleep,
the dark heart of fathomless waters

whisper, I wear soft colors, forsaken
by every life I have lived

beloved’s voice of leaves in the grass
of my wound,
bright as a sun

and perhaps, daughter of evening,
no matter what you take from me

that loss will always burn

By Eleanor Gray

Biography:

Eleanor Gray is, well, the other co-founder of Figroot Press. She currently resides in California with her cat, PS4 and a very beloved collection of books. She graduated from Sacramento State University with a BA in English Literature and has been writing and reading religiously for as long as she can remember. It is hard to find an open and vibrant community of other writers; she wishes to attain and commit herself to a little world consisting of other passionate poets, artists, writers and readers. You can find her on Tumblr at: http://smakka–bagms.tumblr.com/