Ale 81 Inn will be closing down shop on WordPress. We will resurface somewhere at some future date. We have found that the new “tools” have rendered this site worthless to us. It’s been fun, but we’re looking for something better.

After the rapids

Cold and in pain

weary of travel

Past the rapids now

into  broad and placid waters

still deep currents run beneath

You are adrift

carried at mercy

to where jagged rocks await

Can see the impact coming

Dreadful consequence

and fallout

Can not save you

though we see the bottom

Can only call out

but you won’t hear

Can not save you

it’s not my ship to steer

The Pyre

Gone to lie down in the wild heath

atop the glacial ridge

Above the jagged scar left

from the ancient

Brown-green waters fill her void

Stones crawl through history

to lay their fingers across the flowing strings

The sweet song of stones

rise from the waters

to soar with the circling buzzards

They bring water and air to the earth

Now only fire to complete the cycle



The destroyer performs his role

absent judgement or morals

Gleefully shredding your fragile parchments

those mortal remains of your fantasies

The wolf in him no longer cowers

Sprays his mark upon your temples

as he exits from back alleyways

Ever back to the forest

eschewing your piercing lights

Better seen as twinkling dots

embedded in distant hillsides

Always known

never to belong