STRAW Month Poetry Writing Contest
January 24, 2006
Trilogy of the Lost Lamb
Her lisome body floats in the midnight
sky. Raiding every borough they might
have been. She found him in the tabernacle,
lying in bed; reckoning the fury
of their idle talks. He should have spoken.
The night they spent at the newest pub
in town could have been the night
when the lost lamb was found.
Two unknown paths swerving in the woods.
One should only take one. Only a fool
can do both. Serpents and pests await
the brave one. The true test of valor
is faith--not the absence of fear.
One road leads to the lost lamb
while the other could
make one the lost lamb.
In this theater of war he will inhume
the remnants if his life--his bawdy
rituals and unheathly games. Memory
will remember this ceremony.
He's new, no swords only words.
He utters words that can save
her and her lisomeness
and the lamb in the wilderness.