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POETRY
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RAVEN AND DOVE
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Darla Cady
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Darla
Cady is a Jefferson City poet who lives with her husband, kids and
dogs. Her poetry has appeared in Thorny Locust, The Pegasus
Review, and The Leading Edge.
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 OU
HAVE BECOME A raven
But I remain a dove
You rip out my pale feathers
And use them to torture me
White wings fade
Into a wisp of silent smoke
Darkness swallows stars
Thorns devour roses
You drown me in black ice
To make me numb
Like you
Velvet turns to stone
Pearl becomes bone
Armor melts into molten shackles
My fortress becomes a dungeon
I am no longer protected
Only trapped
Tears of silver fire
Spill into this empty space
I used to call
My heart
My sorrow is nothing to you
But an interference
An imposition
I'm sorry for the inconvenience
Of my world breaking into shards
You sculpted an idol of porcelain
Then complained that she shattered
When you slammed her into the wall
My deadly wounds
Have stained your hands
How dare I
Hurt
In your presence
Your icy fingers squeeze my neck
To turn it pretty shades of purple
I gasp for breath, as
You sneer
Violently annoyed
That you cannot create a raven
From this fragile, bleeding dove
© 2003 Darla Cady, all rights reserved |
