A Wishbone.
Autumn’s in the leaves.
Time for the chrysalis.
I fold in my wings
And wrap myself in silk
I disappear until it’s spring again
Then I will pirouette
Near daffodils…
ha ha…but none of that is true…
Those are just words…avoiding all reality
Avoiding the bombardment of the blood red news.
Avoiding the sore throb in every artery
When seeing healthy children, clothed and lying dead
with little angel faces tossed in dust.
…and everything I buy kills something else
Until I feel I do not know which way to move…
The silent men of power are untouchable.
In sliver hats and golden shoes they work away
At ever crueller killer tools
And sinister diseases..
…..the slick and shiny Banker
with his ghoulish lumpy face
his knock-kneed suit and 6 foot prostitute
is right in there.
And then…my wrist watch strap just snapped
as I got into bed…
Time for the chrysalis ..I fold my wings
and wrap myself in sheets.
Kristine Byrne . 31st Oct. 2014 … a 30 minute quickie….
“ Never grow a wishbone, daughter , where you backbone ought to be….Clementine Paddleford. “