tale of the raping woods

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When our eyes met
I heard your cries-

roars rumbling round ripping ruckus
among the golden skirt of leaves
that twirls along the forest floors;

the forest I fought to escape...
In an instant, I’m brought back to
Skies screaming silver torrents down

beating bruises into our limbs...

Your crime-pain fused with mine.
On legs fast and nimble,
they carried me here
where I found you,
in the forest of fear
among the pines and the elms.

But someone found you before I did,
in your grace,
beaten and oddly blue,
choking on the very secret
we all long to tell.

Our innocence a match
our pain the flame.
And all it took,
was a flick of flint and embers
among the floor
and those golden skirts of leaves whirled in rage red.

Flames licking the gnarled eyes-
burning the vice limbs of the raping woods...
and then the trees were no more.
Their snickers and taunts,
chased by the most northern wind
were swallowed by a mother elm with her wise laugh.

Evil now trapped-
and gnashing within the maternal womb
of the wood,
thrashing against the strength and innocence,
of a thousand women captured in a hollow tree.


Never again a tale to be told of spilled youth,
draining into the roots of the land,
mixing with our tears, our maiden-blood, and our nightmares.


It ballooned up into an eternal inferno,
that burns still between every acknowledgement of injustice
and every nod of vengeance paid.