I. In an old bed my eyelids rest; the breath of Israeli in my blood, I never thought I’d have to cross this bridge and I might see you your alter ego, and he dies again; the Prometheus death fit for humankind, take it then take it and see how we are born, see how we’ll die. I am a woman now, last a child when I saw you in the casinos as the moon fed into the phantasmagoria, and the sun settles on my ancient father’s bones. women in their stone had quiet madness, like me, I close my eyes. II. At midnight the smoking glistens sometimes, I die I should have known better I’ll see you again; New England should depress me; babies grown, remembering Meerschaum in your mouth but I loathe the perfume on your skin, and your voice, most of all; a glorying in the first kill in which you are born; the winter. I should have known this would come, why be foolish, I’ve known this man hanging his stones, kick them, kick them, and the moon skims my words but humankind is not (not man or woman), fit for the Prometheus death you are. © 2021 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.
Written for the dVerse prompt 4/27/21: Write a poem about bridges OR write a Puente.
4/29/21: Reposted for the dVerse OLN.
5/3/21: Reposted for PYM Go Dog Go.
5/6/21: Part two to Alter Ego written for the dVerse prompt: The writing challenge is to write a palinode. This can be in relation to a poem you have written before (please link or include prior poem), or as part of a poem.