Saturday, March 22, 2008

The Promise

I will build a tomb
of all the biscuits burned,

fresh food spoiled,
all the dishes washed

in luke warm water,
the vaccuming unfinished.

All the 'fat and forty'
matrons with their books

with no light at the end
of their tunnels

will huddle there
in the quiet dark

shivering at the scratch
and scurry of the unseen,

trying to remember
the spells for fire.


Blogger Chris Never said...

This is such a sad piece to me, save the final stanza, somehow, I found hope in it, not sure why, I know its not meant that way, but I did.

8:07 PM  
Blogger burning moon said...

well it sort of was meant that way. at least it felt that way to me.
in my mind they did find the spell and it worked out ok, lol.

2:26 AM  

Post a Comment

<< Home