ZoeBee

An alternative alphabet poem addressing animal ailments
Bears bearing boils but belabored by bronchitis, burn up
Caribou counting coughs who caught common cold
Down dogs don depression, dimples drooping with doubt

I stumbled out into the light only to find an empty space
Under my bare feet lay the sands of time, now cold and stagnant
I stooped to scoop a handful, the gristle of eternity scattered around my ankles

The deepest, darkest pits of hell look nothing like a scary place
There are no demons, are no trolls, are no skins ripped into lace
There are no cauldrons full of kids, nor deep thumb screws or stretching racks

I'd like to say with all my heart that I prefer a cloudy day
I'd like to try and find the beauty in a solemn, somber sky
I'd like to wait for wind-swept cheeks, for echoes down a narrow strait
I'd like to find a calmness in the clouds

I have not seen the sunrise since 1933
When a woman cursed my eyes shut, and I lost the way to see
And in 1934 I lost my sense of scent
The flowers, onions, chocolates gone, I don't know where they went

Last month
someone told me,
"You know, Zoe,
you're not a very nice girl."
I asked for more information.
It was quite a terrible accusation.
They said I wasn't unkind.
I wasn't unpleasant.
I wasn't untrue.