Elegy for a Rogue Unicorn

The elbow of the universe bends to bring a tender morsel
To the devouring mouth at its center.
Eating with no nutrient, consumption with only loss,
It is a strange and empty meal.

The face of a snake in the gathering night sees
A soft-faced child who sees
The towers against the sky who see
The feathered fingers of the trees reach to the moon.

And I see a white shimmering form flick its tail, and give a toss of its horn
As it disappears behind an all-night laundromat.
Lochalsh, my heart reaches for you, but my grasping fingers fall short.
I am truly a stranger in a strange land.