Being out on the bayou at any time
is surreal, but at eventide,
when the water's surface
becomes moonlit briefly
You swear on that moss-laden
tree, there's a woman hanging
by her wrists
You blink and breathe deeply
and in that moment are
suspended in limbo
Where thoughts and nightmares
tumble over each other
You hear someone chant nearby,
then far off
Hold your breath...
Where is that tree again?
Something falls across your face
By turns you feel sick, then faint
Your reflection in the water
is paper-white
A gator splashes loud
and you crack
apart like porcelain
Now the moon's a gaudy bauble in the sky
and still you tremble
No comments:
Post a Comment