Permuted

Permuted

She once was
Winter’s bride to be,
but she gave her heart
to Autumn.

She knows
Winter’s wrath,
his bitter-cold breath,
knows she is bound.

For when he came for her,
he was not pleased.
So with one icy blast,
he tore a hole in her throat
& then blew out her eye.

She longs for
sweet September mornings
sleeping lazy, sleeping late,
the smell of Autumn’s skin,
his dear touch just before
he entered her
with the bounty of
all his knowing.

-Marge Simon