Poisonous Apples



I know nothing.
 
A dull gnawing
and throbbing ambivalence
of dreams:
 
You take my hands
 
and feed me poisonous apples.
 
I lie limp and languid
in your charms.
 
Train song echoing, two A.M.
A peahen’s cry: the coyote tears her
From her young:
 
Sounds of night, far below
 
a country’s harvest moon.
 
Wind’s blow turns to rain.
 
A sun’s shadows dissipated:
gray shortened days.
 
I know nothing except
 
the absence of a path
 
leading home.

 


“Poisonous Apples” ©October 2011 by Natalie Webster, all rights reserved by the poet


Natalie Webster’s poetry has been published in Take It to the Street Poetry’s Force Fed as well as on the on-line blog Infloressence.  She received her B.A. in Language Studies from the University of California at Santa Cruz and is currently pursuing a Master’s in Counseling Psychology from John F. Kennedy University.  Her spare time is spent working creatively with children’s art classes on painting, creating and writing who, for better or for worse, are her muses. Natalie keeps a web scrapbook of inspirations and writing sketches at Ice and Coffee.

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