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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