Monday, July 14, 2014

A Prayer for Those Long in the Sun

A peach pit long in the sun
abandoned even by the ants,
its sharp edges dulled with fondling --

all the flesh of grief and anger
eaten away: only the hard
core of vindictiveness left --

when the day of your death comes
is that stone really what you want
to be found, clutched in your hand?

They taught you it was magic,
and so it is, but not the way you think.
It will not

protect you from your enemies:
it will eat your soul at dusk
and deliver your children

(do you think they are not listening?)
to the same fate.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

First thing in the morning, a warning...

Lucy said...

You are a bit good at this, you know.

Zhoen said...

I've gone completely to mush.