DOMESTIC VIOLENCE SONNET BLUES
Last night the madness raged and gripped my Soul.
Wove blood-red mists before my road-mapped eyes,
and put an axe into my trembling hands.
Thoughts garbled to the Carrion Crow,
Blood curdled in the pits.
Stones for fists and fingers like steel claws,
hooked and chained within the burning eye.
Slow-squeezing fingers grip and claw.
But then…a child appeared, bathed in light,
and held the space between with utmost grace,
till anger was transformed into shame.
Blind grief’s the parent of such blooming rage.
Go sing the night your sad songs!
And take your demons with you when you leave.
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