Forest Home

The window wasn't open, but the sky
Was visible through leaves and rising smoke.
The clouds stirred, and she heard a bullfrog croak
Out by the shade trees, looking for a fly,
Or wishing his true love would have come by.
No one came by. The moon rose, and she woke,
Her heart as empty as the words she spoke
Forgiving him, which only made him cry.

There was a flash of lightning, and she stood,
Just staring out the window silently.
The memory of insufficiency
And harm dismayed her. She knew what was good.
Three things appeared before her: a red hood,
An armoire, and a severed artery.