ENLIGHTENMENT
Jennifer Rowan
Cross-legged on a mat of crimson roses
Playing Yahtzee with the devil
I realize how close I’ve come
To the beginning of the end
Or the end of the beginning
The game isn’t the only thing
I cast my eyes upon; like children
They are so Fresh and new
To this world I see
Finally, the smell in the air
It looks like prayer books and
Musty tomes from my ancestors,
Tastes like Listerine, scarring my
Throat with putrescent clean.
How could I have lived here?
All this time not knowing, all this
Time believing
That my play-pen on this sacred
Earth was forested by good
Intentions and the tears of my
Mother.
