The Needle - Tobi Alfier

It takes a moment

for awe to turn to shadow,

a legacy that can never be unmade

once done cannot be undone.

As the needle spins from white

to black, couched by all the gorgeous

language of the kingdom and molten

seas, it is still a slag heap of grudges

and fears. A bloody virus of storm

of wretched proportion and epidemic

starts small, reaches out and out

until there is no mercy.

It feeds on loyalty, both cursed

and blessed, rage tempered by guilt

and regret, by the offering of redoubtable

consequence. A two-headed desire, one

aches to fly toward the sun, the other

an Icarus in fiery scatter before home

is reached and the end can be voiced.

The odd compass cobbled from fragments

points to the tremble of tragic disaster.

Commands are ridden through chartless

conceit, well known and unfortunate,

impossible to alter. Murder is murder,

by sea, by storm, by weapon,

thou shalt not kill.

Why tempt hell when it would bring

no redemption, but living purgatory,

paralysis, the absence of life.

Justify cowardly sins and stolid strength,

polish the harpoon with spit and terror.

In the fiery eyes of scorn and triumph,

loyalty will seize its fatal pride.

Originally published by Remaking Moby Dick, November 2013

Tobi Alfier is published nationally and internationally. Credits include War, Literature and the Arts, The American Journal of Poetry, KGB Bar Lit Mag, Washington Square Review, Cholla Needles, James Dickey Review, Gargoyle, Permafrost, Arkansas Review, Anti-Heroin Chic, and others.  She is co-editor of San Pedro River Review (www.bluehorsepress.com)