Icicle
The shadow of a tree
bears endless phrases
Her empty womb has been poisoned,
her breast pointing south
is weakening like an autumn leaf
The braided hair begs
to be untangled like a
long handwriting that cannot be
deciphered
Fat-filled belly in procrastination,
stubborn as the prairie's frost.
When the springtime ice thaws,
an icicle pierces her brain.
No comments:
Post a Comment