The Morrigan

Wikimedia Commons

The last recollection I have is the ravens in the onyx night. I am swirling in this void as flurries of wings caress my cheeks with their delicate feathers. They called to me from high in the starlit sky and then I dreamt I was the moon, and I was the light where there was darkness. I am a luminous orb in the starless twilight, as they race to touch my delicate face but I am much too far away. I try to move closer to my devoted flock but I am frozen in the cold night sky.
In my dream, I cry out their names and they mine, and I awaken from their plaintive calls. Blue-black feathers surround me as hot tears spill onto the moonlit pillow.

©2019 Linda Lee Lyberg

dVerse Poets Pub: Prosery #2 Sarah is hosting our second prosery prompt and we are to use the sentence “I dreamt I was the moon” in our story of 144 words maximum. This story is 128 words, excluding the title.

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28 Comments on “The Morrigan

  1. Sarah wrote a dizain about rooks and you’ve written prose about ravens, Linda – all these black birds are ominous. I love the phrases ‘ravens in the onyx night’ and ‘flurries of wings’. That would be amazingly spooky to wake surrounded by blue-black feathers.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Yes, I am now haunted by swirling blue-black feathers, and I agree the piece feels like a segment of a rich untold back story.

    Liked by 1 person

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