Crimson splits in my head,
thoughts of soil fed
by my bread and blood.
Oh, gory mud!
But will not the petals flourish bright,
the feeding grubs grow plump at night,
while swallowtails gather in
communion? …in communion.
Carving smiles of delight,
glorious ribbons of my troth,
as the winners toll the bell—
blood glitters on the altar.
I’m gonna join the celebration.
…join the celebration.
-- Douglas K. Childers, Ph.D., is a mathematician and writer currently pursuing Linux system security and poetry projects under the Carnutan Initiative. His recent work experiments with medieval aesthetics and modern voice.
