DEATH SAID TO THE CHILD

By Marie Bernadette

Did you know, dear, that on my silent loom

I weave whispers when the willows weep?

I thread their strings with pearls and dark perfume

and then at night I send them to your room

they swirl and giggle while your puppets sleep —

Your mother deemed you safe within her womb

but with your birth she promised you to me;

she hopes to see you thrive into full bloom,

just like a lily nestling on a tomb

But you were always mine, and so was she.

Dust goes to dust, no earthly brush or broom

could cleanse the graveyard walkways that they sweep,

they can't delay the scythe that came to reap

nor salvage what no shovel can exhume;

When you get lonely in your coffin's gloom

I'll send my worms to hug you in your sleep —

You dream of summer grass and sweetened lime

of azure skies and sparkling morning dew

but clepsydras and pendulums will chime

with greedy urgency, you don't have time:

I come for everyone. I'll come for you.

#darkpoetsclub