Aggrievance II

There was something about her little niece,
That irked her from the start.

Was it her ever smiling face, or the lack of guile?
Was it the cheerful spirit or zest for life?
Was it a mother’s weak, selfish heart –
      that could not stand up to her narcissistic daughter’s
           wanton need for incessant attention?
Or was it because she constantly craved her daughter’s approval
      that she found it necessary to ingratiate with the one she engendered.

No matter the reasons;

Aggrievance I

From time to time, her porous heart
Pulled out sheaves of memory,
That twisted her being like shards of glass
Some of them loathsome in its shame
Some of them woeful,
In its coldness and apathy.

The ages that have passed since,
Did not dissolve the wounds of her past
The memories of her sins still fresh in its agony,

Travail III

The creatures of the hills took pity on her,
Nursed her fragile being back to health

Floral vines covered her naked skeleton
Thus, she bloomed in spring,
Turned green in summer, bare-brown in winter

The moon took pity on her –
Lent its milky white for her oblong face,
The solitary rose bush lent her the crimson lips

She refused to gaze upon the world
Covered her face in a shroud of grey cloud,
That stopped just above her vermilion,
Went up over her head,
Floated all the way to the ground.

She roamed the tiny world,

Travail II

She stood at the valley’s bottom, dwarfed by immense hills;
Her haunts stifling her.
She began to ascend, the steep reed like hills
Risking life and limb,

All time was lost, as she scaled the slippery slopes –
Many moons waxed and
Many moons waned
Many seasons grew and
Many seasons withered.

She clambered the hills inexorably,
The affliction of her guilt,
Impelled her to climb higher and higher,
Till every strand of flesh withered away.

On a warm, sunny day, many years away
Under endless azure skies

clo1/Shelly Paul
Image by Shelly Paul

When Mr. Fix-It-All opened his store sharp at eight in the AM, a long queue of creatures was waiting in front of the store window. The first one held an old electric oven. The next one brought a broken heart. There was a man who waited in a ramshackle car, followed by a dog with a broken leg. As always, Mr. Fix-It-All tended to their needs with a pleasant smile and gentle touch.

He fixed the electric oven in fifteen minutes. He took the broken heart from the woman, examined it, and told her that she would have to return the following day, because the heart needed some serious nursing and he would have to mix a healing potion. The man in the car had his transmission fixed in half an hour, while the dog with the broken leg needed a little more time to be mended.

At one point he looked at the clock and saw the time was half past eleven. He stood up from behind the counter and walked to the waiting queue. He stopped by a young tree that held a broken branch and dropped a red ribbon behind it. The crowd waiting behind the ribbon sighed and dispersed quietly.