... and eventually
she became
another princess of the dead
Rumpelstiltskin tried many times
to court her away
straw for gold today
he knew
this daughter
was special
he could tell ...
you could smell
her bells, her esters
estrogen couriers
worn fur, wise rodents
any fat ratting
in hopes she might
walk their way
under mountains
siding with chiding
most every time,
you could tell how
delved, delighted she was
when she wanted
to be there, where wear
warms a thinning soul
Rumpel mused
now
and then
when Spring time arrived
and he again was
reminded why
he loved
that daughter
breathing her blue in, her
water, water everywhere
and no drop
or bouquet to sway
whorl or drink
so when dead
princess ambled by
knew to know it's Easter
in whispers
forlorn fingered spread
April's rain
Rumpelstiltskin says words
only slow
the pain
salve being
a slave
to salvation
as a gain
from losing
Love
and watching
her walk away
a queen waiting decay
Rumpel wonders if
our bones are
the constant infinity
of temporary poems
our skin scurrying
in hurried curried teems
& w/ insistence
peeling away into
shadows, calendars
and clocks
a flesh's once was
was was what Life brings
just as Spring arrives
armed Brigid
carrying sword
and plow
saying
better get eating
your good
because
dead girls
rarely go down ...
EJR ©
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