You left me, in a dark hole
Waiting
for my bread and water

You cast me out of the Holy Land
with Songs of Solomon scratched
from your eyes

I looked up, blinded by the sun
The dust rose to my lips, turned them dry

And the birds that flew
became carcasses of steel
as the night poured salt-water rain.

~Heather Lenz

Poet, writer, artist, publisher, editor