(Earlier this year, I did something I've always wanted to do. A narrative poem in the spirit of THE HIGHWAYMAN by Alfred Noyes. Since then,
Under the Willows occassionally flits back into my mind with its intense sexuality and vampire theme. It was done as a serial, so it has never appeared in its entirety before now. As our thoughts turn to spring, we remember the mysteriously warm nights and wait for our blood to race again.)
He walked with withering twilight colors
Walled in the halls of a quiet sky
And trilled the lullaby birds to silence
Alone as the daylight died
The curving road in the evening whispered
Collin, his name, on a restless wind
Under the willows the shadows deepened
And hid every trace of him
Beyond the marsh and its blackened ripples
Fenced from the forest, a lonely home
With windows flickering through the darkness
Inspiring the lost to roam
The night's first feathery rays of moonlight
Fell on the gates and the mildewed stone
He spied the graves in the nearby distance
Beside the less traveled roads
Among the monuments, Collin embraced
Purity won by the grace of death
And oftentimes he found sanctuary
A secretive place to rest
The sculpted roses and angels kneeling
Wept with a yearning for what was lost
He strangely sensed in the soil were hidden
Embraces consigned to dust
The ashen moon, his lovely companion
Painted the writing with ghostly hands
His trembling fingertips traced her name
A soul who might understand
A breeze from eastern horizons whistled
Valleys of trees turned their silver leaves
He felt the footsteps before he heard them
Malevolence shook his knees
The blackness rushed him and took his body
Ripping arms open to icy stars
The hillside blurred and the forest claimed him
His heartbeat engulfed the dark
Suspended high in the nameless shadows
Quivering toes reached for precious ground
The muscled lines of his neck extended
His groan was a trembling sound
A writhing brilliance of lust exploded
Arched and erupting he gasped and screamed
Sensations falling and flying tumbled
His soul spurted scarlet streams
The swirling hurricane winds departed
Shaking he plunged back to lonesome land
He crawled with weary and cold exhaustion
Impossible to withstand
Beneath the roots was a rotted hollow
Carved from the death of an ancient tree
He burrowed warm in the womb of soil
And boiled in tangled dreams
He tasted images pulsing hotly
Fair and retiring emerald fires
He felt her cheek on the goose down pillow
And tiptoed in her desires
A hundred lifetimes on gales he traveled
Human fragility doused the flames
For weeks he chewed on the boundless questions
And searched for his lover's name
A fox's footfalls advanced attentive
Leapt through the forest when Collin stirred
His skin was milk after leaving tattered
His clothing beneath the dirt
Deluged by torrents of new moon darkness
Soaring he swam on the living night
Against the silhouette mountains climbing
He shimmered in ghostly flight
A rustle pulled at the linen covers
Soft was the sound of his landing feet
He crept the length of the grey slate rooftop
Below they returned to sleep
He drew his slithering body liquid
Curled through the cracks where the field mice stole
His languid fingers caressed the bedpost
And tickled their breaths with cold
His aching melodies strummed the final
Withering phase of the April moon
Her lips were touched by the melting lyrics
Seduced by his nightly tune
He whispered promises sweet to spiders
Fluttering down from their shrouded feasts
In other bedrooms they wove the faces
With blankets of webby peace
A pair of delicate drops of moisture
Perched on her strangely familiar skin
He coaxed them trailing with loving fingers
His welcoming tears for Bryn
She jumped and sat with her heartbeat pounding
Seconds like earthquakes consumed the room
She tried to call to her shrouded father
Bewitched in his silken tomb
Her window shattered in howling windstorms
Ripping her gown through the broken pane
She splayed on willowy branches bending
A league down the rutted lane
He peeled himself from her heaving body
Watching her pant underneath his glare
Her legs were clawed with delicious scratches
And glowed in the moonlight bare
He kissed the neck she surrendered breathless
Lured by its beautiful hollows down
She ripped her buttons and arched toward him
Discarding the shredded gown
He groaned and tasted her body sighing
Piercing the swells of her maiden breasts
His cravings howled with her shameless thrashing
The shivering tree confessed
She pinned her knees to the twisted branches
Twining his hair in her fevered hands
She pulled him down to her molten rocking
And clove her red fires fanned
The Earth's primordial flavors drew him
Lashed with divinity's soaring grace
Her body wrapped to consume his hunger
And cradle his precious face
He rode the tidal waves pounding through her
Clutching to match her abandoned pace
And when her gasping eruptions thundered
He preyed on her shrieking place
The whirlwind drained from the frenzied willow
Emptiness seeping from where they flew
And where a drop of her life blood landed
A burgundy primrose grew
(And he said: will you come if I call?
Darkness erodes every distance
And nighttime conquers us all.)
