Short Erelong Poems

Hope only seems fallen
At the end of battles;
After the dust settles -
It reappears erelong.

Hope carries a spark -
An internal light -
A fire for life
That eschews the dark.

Hope sings an anthem -
Once fear is put out
And despair is bound -
Its song is heard again....

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Where liveth preen for empathy 
Drew ragged, 
Poor sawbones perscribed
"where in pain warrants lithe deformities"
Swimming,
Loathed from the east
Collared, 
Hung dry,
Pruned by the sweat of a racing night

When in dawn's bleached seamstress 
Sought a grim vow
Erelong in catapult
Where'n torrents clothed spare
Credences in cold eyes of maggots
A cruel indifference,
In polar tear.
...

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Inspired by:

She Who Once Was the
Helmet Maker’s Beautiful Wife.

Sculpture by Auguste Rodin


nude glory, she of uncrannied pelt,
stroked by many, might not know
she’ll sit erelong on stone as 
wrinkled bronze
waiting yet to be touched.  

muscle melts from bone,
hair, once auburn-splashed on brow,
turns colorless now and dull.  Who sees
the girl with rose wine cheeks, the
prime of a daughter turned old?


Kathryn McLoughlin Collins
April 14, 2013...

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