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False Hope
November 22, 2017
Our faces, drenched in ash,
drown in the river, pillars of smoke.
How funny the soul is:
Yesterday I saw a flame in the night,
watched it melt to wax.
How the moon hides in the sun,
oceans swallow sharks whole by the teeth.
Two days ago, a black horse
soared into the sky, a midnight rider.
I thought she was flying,
yet today I found her wet heart
lying on the ground.
© Mary K., Natick, MA
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