Resurrection in the woods
She lies still in the grass
resting quietly against the bosom
of her mother;
limbs spread against the moss-
soft as a warblers breast.
She welcomes the sweet release of repose.
No more to feel the scorch of the sun.
No more to yield to the wind,
or quake under winters cold touch.
No more to stand nakedly
waiting for spring to robe her.
No more.
Destiny is sealed by
the one who fells her and makes
her thick pallid hide crack like the sound
of a summer carrot breaking in two.
Her breath catches in the sigh of the wind
as her corset falls loose,
exposing a slick buttery surface,
and the promise of what she can be,
as the owl sings whoooo? in the woods.
KLK 5/10/2000