Saturday, December 05, 2009

THE HURRICANE THAT BRINGS THEM HOME

If only there were enough hours in the day
To keep the wolves at bay
She wears a golden heart for you
Its truth rusted shut to her chest

Alone in the absence of Heaven
Where the dying cry out below
She waits and prays this tornado
Doth deal her a final blow

The swirling of the chairs and honeybees
The eyes of the tigers and laundry
Wait to respond so softly
Once the hurricane brings them home

Displaced like midnight marauders
This heart was lead to slaughter
And if the chase was merely fodder
Then the cheat was a temporal muse.