Monday, April 9, 2012

a cyclical story.


if there was a trophy
he knew he had earned it

gradually mimicking nature as the seasons changed

he knew he was a warrior
a ruler among the pious few

all the while, dragging the pretty young thing by her hair

he situated her on a pedestal
as he prepared his throne

the shrubbery grew around her as he stacked precious stones

he thought would defend her
ignoring the power she offered him

inside the empty house on a lake, the grounds are overgrown

he never saw time passing
while she cut off her hair


© written a long time ago... rediscovered 4.9.12 heather brager

2 comments:

  1. This is super image-filled...I love it.

    "he knew he was a warrior
    a ruler among the pious few

    all the while, dragging the pretty young thing by her hair"

    Perfect.

    Hey, this is kind of an inappropriate request, but I've seen some of your art, and I was wondering if you'd like to become a regular art contributor to my magazine (http://dumbbuttmag.blogspot.com/). If you'd give us the honor, as well, we'd like to publish some of your poetry.

    It's just if you're cool with that. If not, that's fine too I guess. Hit me back: ryanswofford@gmail.com. Thanks!

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  2. Ryan, thank you for reading and commenting. I have responded to your FB message. :) H.

    ReplyDelete