So Long

Thorny briars kiss her

Ankles glazed in radiant ichor.  Nutmeg and honey,

Clover and thyme, her mother’s nectar-sweet tears

Puddling on the peak of Olympus tug

On her tongue as the pomegranate bursts

Across her lips.  A sleepy bliss

Lulled by warm pine

Whispers in her ear.  She tips forward

Toward outstretched arms,

And howling breezes rustle

The olive branches, toss her

Back and take her adrift,

Plant her feet in chilling mountain

Soil that numbs her roots

As her leaves go limp.  Propped upright,

A bean sprout,

Her weight shifts in her mother’s mud-bitten hands

Scooping her up

And weeping sage.  “My dearest,

Persephone, it’s been so long.”  Her face

Stays buried in her mother’s honey-combed curls, and,

For a moment,

Her breath, a faintly intoxicating wisp 

Of citrus, becomes overwhelming


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