Do you think you could have saved her?
The martyrdom of leaves betrays you;
the livid cast of sky above reminds
you of all the lies that broke this plastic life.
There will be no place you can hide,
no haven for your pride and sly
deft hubris of the bone and nerve:
the troubling motion of your sleep seeps in.
Her bright blue eyes, truant as the skies
still see that shade of grey, grey twilight above the river;
the soft repellent odor of the infested swamp resides
in your mind like some forgotten thought of yesterday.
You sit there calmly in your cell tonight
as if the ache of it will walk away one day,
as if you could just change your mind
rise up turn round again toward her and say:
“It was all just a big mistake. I’m sorry!”
– Steven Craig Hickman ©2014 Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author is strictly prohibited.