Mary Ann Honaker

LAMENT OF HADES

How I ache to see her in the blossom-dappled fields,
her long locks windswept and tangled,
soft grasses caressing her calves and ankles.
Her body smells of earth, pine, sweet saps
of tree and shrub, young tender stalks.
This my love,
my lady of the mountaintops.

When she speaks, sometimes it is the giggle
of birds, the babble of streams,
meaning nothing, but joy-inducing.
Sometimes it is the echoes of deep seas,
the earth’s belly humming,
the mysterious drumming
of blood in the ears.
Every word is that near.
This is my love,
my lady of the mountaintops.

Yet when I speak, our words clang together
as sword upon sword.
There’s no hope of understanding,
nor of being understood.
She stays hidden in the morning mists.
This is my love,
my lady of the mountaintops.

_____

Mary Ann Honaker holds B.A. in philosophy from 
West Virginia University and an Masters of Theological 
Studies from Harvard Divinity School. She has previously
published poetry in Harvard’s The Dudley Review and 
Crawlspace of Cambridge, Massachusetts. 

Mary Ann Honaker
8 Smith Street Apt. 2L
Salem, MA  01970
978.594.8294
persephone576@yahoo.com