The Midnight’s Gone Refrain

In the heart of the
Too-tired-for-sleep hour,
Insistent but near-silent
Sioux beat echoes of the
Midnight’s Gone refrain
Reverberate inside my
Young witness skull.

Pausing, horizon capering vixen,
Abroad on appointed assassin duties –
Lifts radar raider muzzle to
The hunger constellations
As if sensing the vibrations
Through whisker tips,
Witch hat ears.

Murder bound, beneath this
Butcher button moon
And chicken-stealer sky.
She will never accept
Cold-season excuses,
Will not betray me;
I cannot condemn her.