It’s taken conciliatory surprise to remind Ariadne of her desires;
her pending resignation of all things malodorous and contrite.
Old crone bones proffer up a willingness to decay
lay still, let mummified old sticks and stones settle in.
A labyrinth of bygones remind her of a well spring run dry
a summer of joy, cut short. The autumn equinox bears down
bending boughs to straighten those willowy heart strings once and for all.
She feels the clew constrict, stretch the last of the wine —
the last dram of mortality’s mundane, quenching nothing in the end
But a lust for a life lost, rendering her a prisoner and one of Klimt’s women
peeling back the golden years in rebellion, a fight to the last breath.
Abandoned yule tides of December wax and wane
when all she wants are lilies, and to be crowned ‘Queen of the Damned’
to be held in the arms of a consecrated man.
Alas, winter brings sadness and loss, chaos organising
the last supper muted in surrender, a fish. One final beat
forces remnants of hope to leave as gracefully as the slamming
of a door / his melted wings and her angst roar!
© Copyright 2019, Jodine Derena Butler & Poetry Out West. All Rights Reserved
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