On Icy Kinarth
Frank Belknap Long
(ca. 1926/35)
I dreamed I stood upon a buttressed ledge
Of Icy Kinarth. High above my head
Soared lizard-birds, and bats with wings outspread,
And loathsome tails that swept the mountain's edge.
A thousand rods below me streamed the sea,
Its black waves lapping at the Isles of Spice:
I clung in terror to a blasted tree,
And fought for footing on the slippery ice.
There came at last, by scent or instinct led,
A fleshless thing with glazed, malignant eyes:
It pawed my mouth until its claws were red,
And voiced its ire in sharp, metallic cries:
A dry and corpsy gargoyle-shape that fed
Its belly with the refuse of the skies.
|
