April 13, 2010
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Netherworld—of red ivy, encasing
A shadow, body, heart, and mind, leaving
A gap between the bridge to shallow dams.

A nymph, golden body twisted on the
Sharply jutting jagged rocks, her eyes wide
And staring, beckons me closer, closer…

Her words spoken across the cool lilting
Of the brook, shamrock green, from amoeba?
Or something more?

Her irises burn with
Something ever more sweet, icy blue to
Cerulean sheet.

The nymph’s blood runs black
Not like her soul of purest white and silver.
The red Netherworld takes her away and

Her body floats down the river—to decay.

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