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Dead Eye
I hope worms devour me, cross my heart and let it be that my coffin lid lies loose.
Lovely little bird, I don’t know if you’ve heard that I found you dead by my front door.
No more chirping, singing lark. I put your body in the dark belly of the underground.
Its image haunts me though, and I suppose I’ll never know what it was that scared said lark to death.
Rotting underneath the earth the tiny creature shook with mirth while marveling at life’s cruelty.
Its ghost I could not shake, and every time that I should wake I’d hear it laughing louder.
So I retrieved the corpse from far below and chopped off its head with one swift blow, and it was at long last silent.
Copyright ©
Catelyn Meeker
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