Wotansday

In the red night

The dead night a

Trail

    Opens

        Up.

Stop.

Twisted, wrapped round

A tree, shatterwrack

    Glass

        Fragments

Blooded head eye

Gaze up

Sullen magic

Staff cast in the

    Ground

        Solid

Upon this the Earth

Spins the moon

Rotates the Sun

    Flickering

        Dimming

Oh what have I become?