By Kriste A Matrisch

I remember dreaming of

Luna, on her knees, crying,

What had her brother done?

All the floods in homes

and domes and streets,

Every body, mind, and soul destroyed

Will these innocent people ever recover?

Ever forgive their leader for leading them astray?

Little did Luna know that

it wasn’t Poseidon behind all of this—

No, thoughtless destruction is the work of her other brother.

So, their mortal leader must not be

praying to the big God, but to this one: Ares.

How else could she explain it?

How else could she justify it to the ones in their sleep?

When the sun breaks,

My eyes glaze over,

Opening to the chaos and catastrophe.

I have to deal.

We have to heal with

The gods’ given reality.

_________________

Originally from Springfield, Illinois, Kriste A. Matrisch obtained her BA in English from Illinois State University. In 2001, she moved to the New Jersey/New York City area to immerse herself in a more cultured surrounding. Her creative work has appeared or is forthcoming in 13th Moon, cc&d, The Griffin (online), RiverSedge, Seventh Quarry, and Wisconsin Review.

Posted by Mel. View all posts by Mel
Saturday, October 22nd, 2011 12:22 am
Categories: Current: 5.4, Poetry