Dulia

Every room became a clearing
In the pines, bright Seraph.

See the two standing in the living
Room: the lachrymal floor

And the wind sending needles
Onto them. Doesn't every moment

Suffer bystanders? Dear Greave of Wings,
Were you hunting there as they buried

Their daughter in brick-colored velvet?
With locks of their hair they buried her.

Pull the bus again from the cold water,
A yellow mammoth-bone marrowed

With children. You have learned us
Worship, teach us to remain in love.

See how they lie hushed like twin cellos stored
After playing out: each grief inaudible to the other.

Copyright © 2006 Carolina Ebeid All rights reserved
from Lyric
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission