Cassandra stole my mouth; lips, tongue bleeding
Empty words of comfort in the apoc-
Alypse of hurt, dream-building, hope seeding;
Shhh! Sleep, hide in my arms and stop the clock.
Their eyes prize print, ink stained cobweb finger,
The gory Glory of it all, can you
Forget? Eurydice and Lot's wife linger with her...
Love's indentations wound even when blue.
Prayer and supplication, crossing my heart:
Fool! Fool! The verdict sentences freedom,
Father and son, you could not breathe apart.
And then the girl 'for thine is the Knigdom,
The Power and the Glory'????
Ah, write another story.

Ceri Harwood