Among the asphodels, warnings
of a killing mind. Bats, incendiary
bombs as cargo, bleed the enemy
(any on the side of a different yes).
Night swallows its stars that once
delivered mercy before sleep.
No longer sing the glass world.
New trumpets must wake the dead.
Some say, too late. Some wash windows
to look from the outside in. A woman
combs her long black hair and waits.
There is fruit enough and he will come.
Author Bio:
Peggy Aylsworth's poetry has appeared in numerous literary journals throughout the U.S. and abroad, including Poetry Salzburg Review, Beloit Poetry Journal, The MacGuffin. Her work was nominated for the 2012 Pushcart Prize by The Medulla Review.
of a killing mind. Bats, incendiary
bombs as cargo, bleed the enemy
(any on the side of a different yes).
Night swallows its stars that once
delivered mercy before sleep.
No longer sing the glass world.
New trumpets must wake the dead.
Some say, too late. Some wash windows
to look from the outside in. A woman
combs her long black hair and waits.
There is fruit enough and he will come.
Author Bio:
Peggy Aylsworth's poetry has appeared in numerous literary journals throughout the U.S. and abroad, including Poetry Salzburg Review, Beloit Poetry Journal, The MacGuffin. Her work was nominated for the 2012 Pushcart Prize by The Medulla Review.
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