lucifer six-finger
where have you gone to
with your swift lightning

oh son of the morning
was it the woman
enticed you to leave us

was it to touch her
featherless arm
was it to curl your belly

around her
that you fell laughing
your grace all ashard 

leaving us here in
perpetual evening
even the guardians

silent    all of us
going about our
father’s business

less radiant
less sure