
Photo by Author
Devour me,
Sour corn cob
•
Shucked by the hawk
And dropped
From the sky
•
Red, shriveled
Left out to dry
•
For the rabbits
And the squirrels
•
Parking lot pyramid
Of discarded
Sunflower seeds
And tulip heads
•
This is not a grave
•
This is a bed of weeds
Fertilized by
Thieves
•
Gathered by
Prey
•
Now, the old beer cans
Are sprouting
From the soil
•
Fenced in
By barbed wire
•
If they try to steal my harvest
They will twitch
And learn, learn, learn.
About the Creator
Bride of Sound
I explore themes of altered perception, distortion of the body, and dysfunctional romance. Sometimes chaotic, attempting to control.
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