Camping in Death Valley, Paxson Woelber

One to Light

Black as blue can be
A dark cacophony
Whose very essence screams
its intent and hastening

A shrewd malevolence needs
a place of mediocrity
And found a spot in core and heart
to rest its head and do its part

And as its indentation lay
impressing spirits not to delay
The host in which it made its nest
shook off the tart unwelcome guest

And though alone they parted ways
each to opposing corners grave
One to light its harsh truth humbled
and the other to encumbered trouble

And so the soul in question aired
its laundry list of dirt laid bare
And Cobalt stood with finger pointed
evil cast on the anointed

As if the sin exposed by rain
had power to relay his claim
The Imbecile in grimace waged
and lost her who was found by Grace

Evie’s Poem from Campsite Six by Jan Fallon


Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *