Windfall

Windfall

 

I have grown old;

A shrub turned tree

Now lost in the forest of itself,

Where dreamed of maidens wandered,

Where fires were built

And the heat was squandered

On vast star-filled skies

In a universe that was at a tilt.

Now the fruit has fallen to the flies.

 

I have grown cold,

The branches without a single leaf

To cover what was faith, what was belief. 

Betrayal

 

 

Betrayal

 

There’s an intimacy in blood:

A map of his heart upon the wall,

The shape of a country

She’d thought she’d fully explored,

But now the borders were closed,

For good.

 

She envied the mosquito

That last touch of his skin,

That kiss, the taste of him.

 

The betrayal, the fall from grace;

With death, like a slap in the face.