#8. Saints and sinners.
You let your guard down
Didn't see the hunter's orange vest
Or didn't care
Can the mute speak?
Still you run through the woods
You should be dead
A stag with the face of a woman
countenance as mysterious as the Mona Lisa's
Run, deer, run
As if the plague were after you
As if followed by Roman soldiers
Aching to martyr.
April 8, 2008
© Anne Westlund
Poetry by Anne Westlund
Read 1186 times
Written on 2008-04-09 at 07:54
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A Painting
You let your guard down
Didn't see the hunter's orange vest
Or didn't care
Can the mute speak?
Still you run through the woods
You should be dead
A stag with the face of a woman
countenance as mysterious as the Mona Lisa's
Run, deer, run
As if the plague were after you
As if followed by Roman soldiers
Aching to martyr.
April 8, 2008
© Anne Westlund
Poetry by Anne Westlund
Read 1186 times
Written on 2008-04-09 at 07:54
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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