Spirits of Caral

 

Ann K. Schwader

 

 

The gods were hungry here, though nameless. Lost
Four thousand years, these pyramids still hold
Their secrets silent as a bone flute tossed
Aside in ritual fervor. Small & cold,
A child's fragmented skeleton awaits
The will of Those who sent Peru's first priests
Black dreams . . . bleak omens moaning for the taste
Of innocence to quench them. Bird or beast
Or mythic totem, nothing on these walls
Reveals the form of deity: no art,
No scrawls of script. Yet desert moonlight falls
Obscurely in this place, & winds impart
A tongueless whispering to slaughtered bones.
The Names they speak are safest left unknown.

 

 

 


Author Bio

Ann K. Schwader is an active member of both SFWA and HWA. Her new chapbook of horror & dark SF verse, Architectures of Night, is available now from Dark Regions Press. Strange Stars & Alien Shadows, her first dark fiction collection, will be published in eBook & POD versions this fall by Lindisfarne Press.

Check out Ms. Schwader's dark fiction and sample stories.

Other poems by Ms. Schwader
Obelisk In Exile
In the Canyon Lands
For All the Starlost
Deep Sky Desert
In Darker Skies of Mind
Markian 348
You Know They're Watching

 

 


 

 

"Spirits of Caral" Copyright © 2003 Ann K. Schwader. All rights reserved.
Published by permission of the author.

 

This page last updated 10-30-03.

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