The Soft, Cool Blanket of Night
wrap me in the soft, cool blanket of night.
waning,
the moon peers down at me
like the heavy-lidded eye of some cyclops.
and if I be lost like poor Odysseus,
cloak me in the soft, warm wool of night.
and if my eyes fail me like old Tiresias,
stitch the cloth with the needles of the king,
and wrap me in the soft, cool wisdom of night.
and if the trees reach out for me
like the souls of the dead,
blanket me in the soft, cool mists of the Styx.
waning,
the moon peers down at me
like the heavy-lidded eye of some cyclops.
and if I be lost like poor Odysseus,
cloak me in the soft, warm wool of night.
and if my eyes fail me like old Tiresias,
stitch the cloth with the needles of the king,
and wrap me in the soft, cool wisdom of night.
and if the trees reach out for me
like the souls of the dead,
blanket me in the soft, cool mists of the Styx.
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Author's Note
For the record, I love ancient Greek literature/ mythology. I read Oedipus Rex for what has to be at least the twentieth time the other day. I started reading it again mostly because I wanted to double-check the spelling of “Tiresias,” but once I started, I had to finish the story. Of course, I knew what was coming, but watching the tragedy unfold, seeing the inevitability of it, is part of what makes the story great.
For your reading pleasure, I present a poem that features some Greek mythological references. I hope you enjoy it. As always, your feedback is welcome and encouraged.
Other stories by Darius McCaskey
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