Was

She cringes. They knew.

Didn’t say, wouldn’t change

nothing, anything

help or hurt

They wait, mercy resides

patience, temperance,

in these, out there

touch and feel

lost and found

not looking, not seeing,

not needing, not wanting

more than, merely

her presence, her past

come back…

Painting By Félicie Schneider (1831 - 1888) (Sotheby's New York, 29 January 2010, lot 867) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Sacrificial She

Demands are shrill
lilt a tone that cuts the fleshy ear
and worse as a pseudo nurse
I fear-in trembling-today
I am wilted even further away.
Lillies in the valley lean toward the rain,
the pain-
my dear-
I dare to note how sap drains slow,
like the frozen pulse-amber loves her prize,
and time flies while doing for others
sweet things softly, conjuring energy,
time in disguise as your own
with never ceasing chores
that occupy us so slyly
while we are looking down
oblivious
to others
looking up to us.
It is the way we listen
when Justice is served
evenhandedly.



Painting by By Hatherell, William, The Last Message (1918) in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.