Poem for a Friend

We came as we were able.
I was Cain and you were Abel.
When you were slain, I was able
to bide within the reclaimed plains
where I revoked your name— “Cain!”
God cried, shame-faced, for Father knew
that he loved me more than he loved you.
For to slay your own brood, brother,
is a wretched thing, and what you bred
you slaughtered, so you could offer blood.
Who could blame a god that hates a fruit
that’s bitter, black, and bruised? So it’s me
who prunes, who always swings the blade
to cut away by God’s command
and raze the rot out from the land.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s