Drowsy in Twilight

I am the goddess of yellow fires
flaring in the sky on oddball afternoons
mildly sunny,
but dull as dusk.

On days mild,
with settings matte;
as if the wolves weren't crouched in the shrub:

but I can see them there,
as I am a goddess
of this land long abandoned for clearer thinking.

Abandoned by most, that is.

Either way, the drugged feeling
wreathes around the atmosphere;
it eats and devours,
it festers strangely,
it growls hungrily.

The creatures dash from cover to cover,
they gnaw on the corpses in the clearing;
and all the while, the gases fume;

the goddess of this place is sent into a lull.

The leaking fog is everywhere, and the wolves
the deserters, the beasts, the jackals
swarm about this dreaming
Landscape
called

"Consciousness."