a duel
Keen the blade at subtle thread,
Soothing swords gleam overhead.
Through the mist, the dawn forthcoming,
More to peace than fear succumbing,
Two the players, not uneager,
Weapons drawn, delaying meager,
Both advance, bright weapons glancing,
Quiet light upon them dancing,
'Til the first of strikes unnumbered,
Springs from hunter unencumbered.
Keen the blade at subtle thread,
Soothing swords gleam overhead.
Round the round the prey goes, harried,
Hunter follows, loathe to tarry,
Wary watchers, hardly seeing,
As the prey flies, fluid fleeing,
Swift Meleager, wildly winging,
Cuts anon, his sword is singing,
But he misses, hunt now ended,
While the prey cuts, time suspended.
Keen the blade at subtle thread,
Soothing swords gleam overhead.
Lightning steel, its edge unbated,
Follows after, having waited,
Perfect form for perfect timing,
Like a poet, neatly rhyming,
And, in meter, movement flowing,
Each his line innately knowing,
Hunter hunted, hunted hunts,
And each one the end confronts.
Keen the blade at subtle thread,
Soothing swords gleam overhead.
Under, over, backward, fore,
Mystic mien of ancient lore,
Eyes alight with winged fire,
Burning as a funeral pyre,
Silver blade takes flight again,
Glowing o’er the heathered fen,
Fell the ring of sword now parried,
Hilt and hand stay barely married.
Keen the blade at subtle thread,
Soothing swords gleam overhead.
Like a river, flowing on,
Fluent as a season gone,
Calmly weaving, never ending,
Hazarding their fates impending,
Even striking, tempered souls,
Foll’wing nature’s mean controls,
Thinking nothing, merely flowing,
Seeing all, but nothing showing.
Keen the blade at subtle thread,
Soothing swords gleam overhead.
Glancing light, a light thrust landing,
Hissing rage at prey yet standing,
Baneful weapon, undelaying,
Thieving time ill-spent surveying,
Hand, yet more, none to his liking,
Strikes to save more strikes the striking,
Yielding man gives way to dying,
Nevermore to men replying.
Keen the blade at subtle thread,
Soothing swords gleam overhead.