rocks turn to dust, seeds are barren,
a tail of greed wags the dog
(the one who kills
the goose with the golden eggs)
half beasts slouch
toward succor and safety,
fall into fires
with withering angels
never say die
whose path is holy
***
not wanting to end up on his horns
she refused his friendship
and ended on a sword
some approach suing for redress
and soon find weakness
with their arrows
in a world ruled by struggle
there are choosers and the chosen,
each depending on the other
***
young girls, coatless in winter,
pull in eyes;
the big fish don't always
catch the little
wolves dine on fresh lambs
until the lambs turn into tigers
(the tigers into saviours)
one with great love and knowledge
walked on water
beckoning others to follow
and they still believed in death
Joneve McCormick
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