They're Coming Home

Twilight silence exits.
The golden ones,
captives of the night--
they're coming home.
Once upon a time,
morning scents adorned us.
We did not fear baring all.
Now, spying from a distance,
our visions blur.
We watch mothers
share a moment of laughter
before they burn the books.
Joy of Sex. Kama Sutra.
In the midday sun,
we peer from under straw hats
to watch the neighbors
poke about their gardens.
Dancing with sunflower women,
they ignore the shadows in our eyes.
Fortune loves circles.
What bondage?
Embrace the clipped wings.
Accept the rings,
the baubles, the decorations.
Their chill shields us from the prophesy:
Like father, like son.
We give teachers our treasure and forget.
Something wicked? Delusions!
A moment of frustration? The moon!
Voices of fury intrigue us.
For peace, we give our strength to monsters.
Pour the wine. Drown the roots of persuasion.
Murder? No, only arms.
The mirror is cracked.
There are fireworks in heaven.
Congratulations. Here's your star.