The Silent OrchardThis silent orchard I see through melancholy eyes:More Like This
the trees stand naked from winter's breath;
an innocent blade of grass pokes through inches of ice
while his brothers suffocate beneath.
My deep voice echoes across this terrible tundra
as Old Man Frost elicits my resentment,
once again desolating what majesty I've made
and leaving me cold - but alive.
From the cinderblock chimney of my maplewood home
a ribbon of smoke swirls toward the heavens
as though reaching for that milky midnight half-moon
hanging in a star-speckled sky.
But alas – I realize – my true home is here.
Thus I collapse upon my knees, begin to bathe in bitter snow
and let the cold hand of December
choke me with my children.
HeresyI woke up last night and knew.More Like This
They were here again today.
My true thoughts surfaced instantly,
in their cruel and heartless way.
From bed to bar I clambered;
I'd heard them down the hall.
They preached their wicked deception,
and my friends believed it all.
Fate had chosen me, no doubt,
and so had one of them.
I grew anxious as he drew near;
when he looked at me, he said
"My pity is yours, dear girl,
I hope it finds you well.
This hour is for my desire and
my desire is in this cell."
No more than a day ago,
I would have been aghast.
But fear had given up its siege
on my feeble heart at last.
"Please come inside my master;
I know you'll find this odd.
I had quite a revelation,
and I didn't pray to God."
His face showed his bemusement,
which came as no surprise.
I proposed an explanation,
as I looked him in the eyes.
"I'm giving up my morals;
I'm going straight to hell.
The devil said you're coming with
and it's pointless to rebel."
Death has never seemed so droll,
nor ever so divine;