Prelude to War
We are like chocolate and gorgeous black need
The soul that ever breathes the liquid night
A rock, that pierced, will crack, break down and bleed
A bowl of jello melting in the light.
Arachne, screaming, meets us in the moon
A woven chaos seething through the skies
Pink-gray and purple calm precede monsoon
Heavy heads of war craft careful lies.
Anticipation licks her swollen lips
Beats Darabuka with her sweating hands
The gritty desert visible from ships
That soon throw fire on bitter, starving lands.
A tension breaks. Now tragedy commence.
Abandon hope. Somehow
these
deaths make sense.
Published with permission of author:
Mary Goldrick
Pismo Beach
01/18/2003