The Envy Of Sisyphus
Revenant rags of bold summer day haunts,
sanguine in sky's dusk stretched tent.
Her wry smile strays through canvas, rent.
Cloud wrought frame holds wild light in shroud.
Now candour; moon bare breasts' sharp rise,
winks shine on tines of steep, forked road.
Braggart stump of old gibbet serves as bench,
so, pause a while, consider, choices spent
in which we thrive or die.
Past lives, a noose to dandle questions from;
this heart is silent. Some murmur, roar, more
inchoate, fervent in search of truth and yet,
I keep my head
and roll the stone of Woman's dread
while my feet still touch the Earth.