Past Curfew

In the pall of those years now fully spent
Both primitive blessing and profane curse
Where once eager to track that imbrued scent
Now we two that earliest track transverse

Unbitten thus our scion grew older
And to her the lunule grace left untouched
Until that other blooding might claim her
To a sanguine sybariticism clutch

When time proved out the lupine strain bred true
And secured by blood Endymion’s pardon
When from our door she and her date withdrew
Our unease grew as the sunlight softened

Alone, my daughter returned past curfew
“Um Dad, you don’t mind if I borrow the shovel, do you?”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s