Cauldron Anthology Sphinx - 2 - Page 10

Adorn the Laurels Elisabeth Horan Listen to the first and last time I will write about myself - My nose was broken and my paws wind-chiseled My days of glory ended with Moses’ crossing of a line I want to walk in Africa no more beholden to Khafre plateaued in platitude I could hunt up some Thompson’s pant by a river lick my sisters I will never taste water nor walk in a garden I am only sandstone eroding I long to shed my headdress for I am not Cleopatra Taylor’s moss-green eyes - in Egypt? My darling Antony, neither are you Burton. But it doesn’t really matter I have no claws 10 Cauldron Anthology