Michael Sturdy

“Spots and Gold.”

The Dalmatian drinks echoes from a well of glass,
The Golden keeps watch where the cold sparks expire;
One fattens on mirrors, one shelters the grass.

The spotted thief follows the scent of brass,
Nosing through kingdoms of rusted wire;
The Dalmatian drinks echoes from a well of glass.

He harvests moon-shards no paw can amass,
And crowns himself king of a lanternless spire;
One fattens on mirrors, one shelters the grass.

Yet gold moves low through the frost-bitten pass,
Bearing small embers concealed from the pyre;
The Dalmatian drinks echoes from a well of glass.

Where night folds down like a raven’s mass,
The Golden circles the lost and the tired;
One fattens on mirrors, one shelters the grass.

At dawn the rain unthreads each counterfeit mask;
Glass sinks to mud, and the briars retire.
The Dalmatian drinks echoes from a well of glass,
One fattens on mirrors, one shelters the grass.

--M. Sturdy (June 4th, 2026)