The Moon and Death conspire
In the foggy, damp forest
As Honor and Passion
Fill the thirsty riverbed with a
sanguine current
In the name of a conflicted lover.
Pan cries out and the nymphs howl,
Shaking leaves from their branches
Like the first winter morn
When the dew on the grass
Becomes frost on the stone.
Blood and Fire battle in the heart
of Young Beauty,
A demon in the souls of these beasts,
Bringing forth murderous instinct.
After the storm, the tears,
the tragedy of the night,
Apollo returns in his chariot,
And sees the world unchanged.
***
(Minneapolis, MN -- November, 2017)
This poem was a continuation of my experimentation with exotic and provocative imagery. This was also inspired by the play Bodas de Sangre by Federico Garcia Lorca, which uses similar personification to depict an ill-fated love.
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