Poetry by Don P. Musey

Natural Beauty

With a click the severed sunbeams
Flutter and descend like canary’s feathers
As a cat holds down the body.
A body trapped beneath the paws and
Claws that pierce skin, releasing
Fluid that leaves no trace.
A small stubbled head placed
Upon trembling cupped hands
That trap falling water.
The eyes make up lakes,
The mascara raging tributaries.

You may contact Don P. Musey at donpmusey@gmail.com.

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Melting Snow

As I marched I took pleasure hearing
Each crunch as my footprints marred
The untouched white blanket that led
Like a red carpet to my snow white’s door.
It opened slowly like an unfurling lily.

Within we were wrapped in
The white cocoon, watched only by
The eyes of empty wine glasses; pristine
But for a tint of red nestled in the iris
As if God had taken a snapshot to mark
This moment of transformation.

I emerged a squirming caterpillar unto
Scenes of melting snow like a cauldron had
Been tipped from above
To wash away the mountains of sugar.

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Insecticide

A dead fly lies motionless on my windowsill
The same insect who’s buzzing invaded
Sleepless summer nights, the sounds of an
Infestation. But was always droned out
By the deadening volume of the day;
That it spent continually
Revisiting an invisible pane.

The shrivelled raisin in my hand brings
Back a vision of a matchbox coffin
That housed the remnants of a dead spider
That would lower itself to my pillow
With a viper-like whisper;
Wrapping my dreams in
Layers of gossamer; sapping
Fledgling vines’ vitality.

Looking into dead disco ball eyes
Wondering what else lost life before
The reflective black window
I open wide the double glaze.
Out into the cool damp air
It flies once more.