Cradle of Tragedy

Clockwork lovers, their eyes the color or rye
Lay invisible, gone native and wild.
A choice: blood oranges or purple grapes?
22 beloved mockingbirds flew
Over the cold brave sun.
Naked in the Jungle of Peace, awakening all
Animals, eyes tell Ulysses
To run.
Lord on the Mountain whom God revisited
Tolls cancer; rises to the Song of the Wind.
Cat’s lunch!
Wrath dying. Catch
the Catcher
the mice
the Lady, the
sons.
Go: great cradle of tragedy
Calls.
Go.
..........Farewell.

by Kristi Austin


jls 10/7/2010