‘Goblin Mode’

Photographer - Beth Cole

Goblin Mode

Soon, I will be a shadow, your shadow

When candlelight wanes over the warm hearth.

Can moonlight dissolve? My form diffuses,

Cells forge new bonds—a transitive power,

Thoughts tumble through your mind but never flower.

A storm brews, less thunder in sleeping eyes.

Your mouth opes--the secret grows inside,

Dreams sprout, mesmerized. Haunting shapes wait,

Then, I cut the string unraveling Fate.

When the sun rises, my charge is complete:

And the dew drips down pooling at your feet,

While lark’s callus song, dipp’d in revelry,

And the nightingale converts once fervent tune

Before the endless nights of the harvest moon.

If time has passed, your time has passed,

Lock’d eyes can’t dream. A feather hovers,

Rain freezes into ice, not mere alchemy.

If my life force wanes, will I get the same decency?

The world is no longer with you or me,

We fight to live, no chance for decency.

Jonathan Goldman, teacher and master's candidate at Harvard Extension School, is from Los Angeles where he has worked in education for over a decade. Other than poetry, Jonathan also has a wide array of short stories that deal with local social causes in Southern California and hopes to be considered as part of a new movement of Modern fiction. Currently, he's working on a Cozy Fiction portal fantasy called The Little Brown Bird.