The Banishing

Heaven’s tardy tears speckled

my face with free falling freckles.

Hurricane winds blended

hairy goosebumps, on skin suspended.

Feet, like tornados, hurried down slopes,

hyenas yipped and cracked crude jokes.

Outrunning arrows that were attempting,

to pierce strained back, along the wretched way, wincing.

Cast out from the tribunal tribe,

with no canny clan, now, to reside.

Dismissed, drenched in dusty disbelief,

yearned to erase or ease my particular past.

At last, macabre Moonbeam greeted

my chided cheek and solo team,

crawling into brash, bitter briers,

yearning for comfort of campfire.

Deerskin snagged and so did breath,

then, slipped into a deep sleep like death.