In Proper Time, If We Do Not Give Up.

I went out

early in the morning

to plant my seeds.

The darkness was too comfortable,

The dew was still alive.

My seeds rested in my hand,

nestled in the warmth

given to them by the sweaty womb.

I tap-danced down the pre-plowed rows

of sod and dirt and mud

gently placing each seed in her final resting place;

saying a parting prayer over each,

a half-hearted eulogy,

only hoping that God saves their souls from

this bitter brown earth.

He beats the words into my skull

like it is a bone-and-blood based tablet.

“A man reaps what he sows”

but it is the end of summer

and nothing that I have planted has grown.

It is still dark.

My palms are still sweating.

The Queen of the Dead

We walk down the river

preparing for the fateful departure once again.

Her hand is resting in mine,

she tells me that she feels

free

without me.

I send her back to her dwelling

place, where she has begged me to release,

watching her walk away

until she reaches the safety of her mother’s

arms.

I turn my back to her joy with my

chains dragging between my legs.

I do not want to love like this.

I replace her empty seat

with Kerberos.

But I am not a man.

My best friend has abandoned me.

It is summertime and her scent

wafts across the oceans

to find its home in my nostrils.

I grow pomegranates in her place.

Wild carnations spring

from the land of the dead,

an eternal reminder of

my place.

I rest with my sins.

I await her return

to bring my world back under.

I do not want to love like this.

Cheyenne Hunt recently graduated with a Bachelor of Arts in Integrated Language Arts Education and Philosophy with plans to teach high school English and writing courses. A domestic violence survivor, Cheyenne has learned to channel her energy into writing and advocating for other battered women throughout Ohio. In her free time, Cheyenne often likes to travel to new places and drink a little too much coffee while she's there.

Image by Antti T. Nissinen, found on Flickr: https://flic.kr/p/dBMKGy

#poetry #cheyennehunt #summersadness