Log in

No account? Create an account

Previous Entry | Next Entry


Water was in the air outside when I walked out with my bag of trash, and clouds obscured the moon. I tiptoed into the dumpster enclosure and saw that the large sturdy couch frame in the dumpster was still there. There was a shopping cart and rubbish in the recycle area, but nothing with the subtle sparkle just under or over the frequency of sight about it that says that this is something I should look at. I tossed the bag in the dumpster and stole back towards the apartment, listening to the noise of cars swishing past on the damp street and feeling the air about me, stepping over trimmed tree branches.

Clouds floated aside to reveal the still-full moon. Soon, child, she told me. Soon.
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
Powered by LiveJournal.com
Designed by yoksel