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Cold Enough to See
by KJ Hannah Greenberg
I.
It’s a starry night, but cold enough to see
Moving sheets of ice, such redacted misery
Of love’s herbs, potions, select midwifery.
Hidden changes which summon adversity.
Note: bathroom inlays, once gratuitously littered,
With all sorts of yesterday’s green laws, skittered
Self-imagined glory, until riches got reconsidered.
In this apartment, your shrill calls still embitter.
Wood hares, when pierced by falcons, die.
Otherworldly weaves, hypnotic shapes pry
No fabled, epic ginger-haired monkeys by
Dint of ugly, ancient archaeopteryx’ eyes.
Sent home to highlands, under triple guard,
Seeking mates and futures remains marred,
All the more, reclaiming sanctuary is absurd
Recall: wee woodland creatures nibble hard.
II.
Skin, buttercup petals, even eiderdown,
Miss when shadow befall our dear town.
Elicit no dove song, lift no aural crown,
Just sprinkle tears here, there, and around.
Foreign, old souls engage in lambent pillage.
Destroy what life gets pulled from such spilling,
Perilous, wearisome louts trounce our village
But fail procreation’s brilliant, private tillage.
Their smiles, their bows, their patterned ways
Belie scripted pouts, war’s corrupt mores.
In killing field, arms rule what tongues purvey.
Proving, ultimately that outlanders overstay.
In our clime, such breach, such impudence
Culls horse urine, maybe goldenrod’s insolence
Garners interest in alien, intoned verbal mess,
‘cause foreign “heroes” can bring nothing less.
Copyright reserved. Please do not reproduce without consent.