4- ☾☾ -I

18 4 4
                                    

The sun is sinking low behind the hills

along th'horizon, spilling light upon

the edge before it's swallowed 'neath the Earth

for Luna to replace within the Sky

with weaker light to trouble human sight.

But Saunterer assures this matters not,

for always doth he pack a lantern in

his wagon, else he'd suffer many nights

of blindness, fumbling for his horses' reins

and seeking long a place to camp and rest.                10

These words he gives, however, fall upon

the Spouse's deafen'd ears, as all she hears

is beating heart by which she counts the hours

whilst staring at the bloody stone within

her clutch and dreading moment may it turn

from vibrant red to white as desert sand.

The Saunterer can see the worry on

her face, and so he tries to shift her thoughts

to any subject other than demise,

for there's no way for him to speed along                20

their progress, for he'd run the real risk

of tiring out the horses ere they come

upon their destination and return.


"Thou recognize there's people following

behind your company just out of sight?"

he says to try to sway her worried mind.

"I notic'd first their presence when we pull'd

thy man up from the cave. It seems a group

of women clad cerulean do trail

behind your ev'ry step; I thought they'd press                30

beyond the town at morn, but it would seem

they're int'rested in stalking thee and him;

they've even split apart to follow us

whilst others linger in the town to watch

thy man. I only hope they don't contract

the sickness going round by staying there."


The Spouse responds with nod and now explains

what Author said to her when first they met

before she turn'd away and found his cart.

He takes this information in and frowns                40

with scowls and scoffs, engag'd in raising voice:

"I would assume that thou wouldst think it odd,

these people think that they're allow'd to write

your lives as though to entertain a crowd

by making play of tribulation's strife!

It sickens me to think how low some stoop

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