the owl over the pond

limping Theseus wanders into view
searching for a lost
spool
on the ground
near the pond
he is
floridly loitering
skirting his
criminalities -
they are
raging within a bull's head
somewhere in the dungeons
of Minos...

trees sigh
by the pond
the owl
stretches its wing,
contemplates
the starlight
at its tips
grace of airs
arcing dance
forest lace
embedding starlight
upon that water's surface
blue light
dawn sky
before liquid gold drowns
all killers' whispering woes
in predawn indigoes
the cold depths
of this pond
penetrated
by strathing gold
are the magi's
crucible
lilies grow at its edge