| Author | Message | ||
| M
Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 3536 Registered: 11-1998 |
Honorable Mention The Sister of Lazarus Leaves Cyprus Laurie Byro When I wake, it is in a forest, different from the Island where we live. I plant a fig tree to remind me of home. At the end of my longing is a door to release me to sorrow. All journeys begin with a false footstep. Overhead, branches shift, creaking in the wind. I am alone for the first time from the center of my life. Fearful birds dart, shadow-mice skitter into deeper forest. Whatever is left of his starry voice, let me hear it before it is taken by the night. I loved a man who was born twice to a passion I cannot stir with my hands. Let me lie under these trees that glow with eyes but conceal moonlight. Let me pray for a distance that lets me stop counting figs on a tree not accustomed to change. |
