and then they left their home,
one by one, the salty fluid pouring
into each other, God called
down to Margaret that morning;
“I know spaces between stones,
that, years ago, repressed me.
A harp was broken by an angel,
and now you shall go empty.”
Drums beat wild; a spell of evils
cast up from Hell’s almighty.
Can I exist, just as this?
A nightmare in a body?
I was given a black trail,
a tricycle, and blindly
left my post beneath the drums
to find captivity.
I listened from a noisy Inn
near the Mighty Mississippi,
its waters shook all voice
and took it selfishly.
So, I went, to a purple mountain,
to visit Mighty Oak Trees,
but my tears tried to drown
me there, drip, drip, dripping.
Heaven became worth it when
I had realized it hardly,
every stone and every man
I sat in line, in silence
with them, picking at my knees,
when fire grabbed a child’s limb
and she screamed in agony.
I found that I was not an
Angel, the devil had been dwelling
in wine and liquor and
my heart had, all this time, been failing.
Thanks so much for reading!
All I can say is “Wow!”. I have been trying to find inspiration for writing all day. I just found it! Thank you!
No, No….Thank YOU, my friend!!! 🙂
There is a cold reflectiveness around this writing, Maggie, that makes it pull one back to read again – stunningly effective
this is one of my favourites of yours that i’ve read. I really love this poem. “can i exist, just as this? A nightmare in a body?”-what a line.
Thanks for reading. I really liked this one too. A SECRET(I rarely like something I have written) but I did enjoy this one. 🙂
Yep, i relate to quietly rarely being happy with any of my own work.
Wow! I am practically breathless. A beautiful piece.
🙂 Thanks for reading!
I am sweating…
😉 me too!
Great insight. Such truth in “every stone and every man…”