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---
title: Finding the Lion
id: finding-the-lion
genre: verse
project:
title: Autocento of the breakfast table
class: autocento
...
Tonight, as I look up, the stars \
hide themselves in shame. [There is no moon][]. \
The sky is black, like my desk,
[nothing like a raven][]. The streetlights \
look on the scene disinterested. \
They have their own [small gossips of the dark][].
I came here to find the Lion, old \
friend, but he will not show his flanks, his \
paws, his shoulders, [his mane][]. I
can hear him laughing from his hiding-place \
behind the moon, nonexistent, under \
the cold dead earth. The mountain is in front
of me now, a hole of stars daring me \
to pierce it with my sight. The lion's still \
laughing; the streetlamps talk about
me amongst themselves, and go out. There \
never was any lion, they tell me. \
[You only hear the wind][] [on the mountain][].
[There is no moon]: moongone.html
[nothing like a raven]: feedingtheraven.html
[small gossips of the dark]: the-night-we-met.html
[his mane]: axe.html
[You only hear the wind]: cold-wind.html
[on the mountain]: mountain.html
|
