LOST INNOCENCE--an original poem

LOST INNOCENCE

After Mom died, I curled
in our clover patch,
my cherubic lips cursing
the night's first star
and all its promises.

After he left me, I ripped up
our fence, pickets tearing
my soft palms, pansies
scattering, their spindly roots
groping for air.

After the towers toppled, I questioned
the ground, feeling the earth's fear
imprint my sturdy feet,
it's cries lodge, pulsating
in my gut.

Now I cower and wait, flinching
with dread, knowing teeth gnash
under my bed, while God
nods off playing chess
with the Devil.

by Caroline Reichard

Thanks for reading!