Rob.Hudson:
And so till midnight and into the ebb-time when the spirit slips lightly from sick men and when it's like no-mans-land between yesterday and tomorrow and material things are but barely integrated and loosely tacked together.
Rob.Hudson:
He sinks on one knee and now on the other, his upper body tilts in rigid inclination this way and back; weighted lanyard runs out full tether, swings like a pendulum and the clock runs down.
Rob.Hudson:
and in the core and navel of the wood there seemed a vacuum, if you stayed quite still, as though you'd come on ancient stillnesses in his most interior place.
Rob.Hudson:
You can't see anything but sheen on drifting particles and you move forward in your private bright cloud like one assumed who is borne up by an exterior volition.
Rob.Hudson:
From deeply inward thumping all through you beating no peace to be still in and no one is there not anyone to stop can't anyone turn off the tap or won't anyone before it snaps.
Rob.Hudson:
But sweet sister death has gone debauched today and stalks on this high ground with strumpet confidence, makes no coy veiling of her appetite but leers from you to me with all her parts discovered.
Rob.Hudson:
where his traversing machine-guns perforate to powder white- white creature of chalk pounded and the world crumbled away
Rob.Hudson:
The queen of the woods has cut bright boughs of various flowering. These knew her influential eyes. Her awarding hands can pluck for each their fragile prize.
Rob.Hudson:
As to this hour….
Rob.Hudson:
His light stick-bomb winged above your thorn-bush, and aged oak-timbers shiver and leaves shower like thrown blossom for a conqueror.
Rob.Hudson:
Suffer with us this metamorphosis.
Rob.Hudson:
Cloud shielded her bright disc-rising yet her veiled influence illuminated the texture of that place.
Rob.Hudson:
His eyes set on the hollow night beyond.
Rob.Hudson:
Dead-calm for this Sargasso dank, and for the creeping things. You can hear the silence of it.
Rob.Hudson:
Like an home-reared animal in a quiet nook, before his day came... before entering into the prison of earth
Rob.Hudson:
Stealthily, imperceptibly, stript back thinning night wraps unshrouding, unsheafing and insubstantial barriers dissolve.
Rob.Hudson:
His lamps hang in this black cold and hang so still
Rob.Hudson:
behind them the stars still shined.
Rob.Hudson:
And the surfeit of fear steadies to dumb incognition.
Rob.Hudson:
in the tensioned silence
Rob.Hudson:
In the regions of air above the trajectory zone, the birds chattering heard for all the drum-fire counter the malice of the engines.
Rob.Hudson:
As a malign chronometer, ticking off with each discharge an exactly measured progress toward a certain and prearranged hour of apocalypse.
Rob.Hudson:
When men sense how they stand so perilous and transitory in this world.
Rob.Hudson:
The grey owl suddenly.
Rob.Hudson:
Fear will so condition you that you each will pale for the other, and in one another you will hate your own flesh.
Rob.Hudson:
Men went to Catraeth as day dawned
Rob.Hudson:
all these accidents of light within a large lengthened calm.
Rob.Hudson:
The sky flickered uncertainly, as when summer lightenings dance.
Rob.Hudson:
And conflagrations change the shape of the sky.
Rob.Hudson:
And blackened men ran between the falling stars.
