To a Rune Stave I Lent my Hot Blood

To a rune stave I lent my hot blood

To tally up the sum of the hearts affections

The scrawled, agile figures bent to their sultry task

My old blood has been there talking to them

Before, and past lovers linger on in traces,

Once flowing rills, where their shadows stayed behind me

Words that echo in the canyon hollows, above the plains

Where ever I might go, those go with me

They are like the dead, never buried once with respect

Watching through haunted eyes, like the wind

That might never move a leaf; still