Nevermore
by Ellen A. Grazioso
A child on a tricycle hears her mother:
"Stay on the path. Don't talk to strangers."
The teacher warns: "Buddy up.
Beware of wolves in sheep's clothing."
The pastor preaches: "Love thy neighbor.
Help those in need."
A young woman is riding her ten-speed
to a park. A feeling of change is in the air.
Wispy gray clouds whiten with sunshine.
Along a stretch of meadow, field daisies
have won the battle of the buttercups.
An annual barbecue is on her agenda.
It's a popular event. Crowds surge,
eager to sweat over smoky barrel grills.
The pretty bicyclist speeds, but she's late.
All the best spots are taken.
She settles for a sunny patch of grass.
Nearby, an unkindness of wolf-birds conspires.
Soon a shadow eclipses her light.
A man with an arm in a sling stares at his prey.
Like a wolf he engages the "conversation of death."
"Miss, could you help me unload a cooler?"
Caution aside, she leaves with the stranger.
At sundown, gates inch toward closing.
Folks converge and hurry home,
oblivious of the lamb that strayed.
A lone ten-speed waits in moonlight.
"Stay on the path. Don't talk to strangers."
The teacher warns: "Buddy up.
Beware of wolves in sheep's clothing."
The pastor preaches: "Love thy neighbor.
Help those in need."
A young woman is riding her ten-speed
to a park. A feeling of change is in the air.
Wispy gray clouds whiten with sunshine.
Along a stretch of meadow, field daisies
have won the battle of the buttercups.
An annual barbecue is on her agenda.
It's a popular event. Crowds surge,
eager to sweat over smoky barrel grills.
The pretty bicyclist speeds, but she's late.
All the best spots are taken.
She settles for a sunny patch of grass.
Nearby, an unkindness of wolf-birds conspires.
Soon a shadow eclipses her light.
A man with an arm in a sling stares at his prey.
Like a wolf he engages the "conversation of death."
"Miss, could you help me unload a cooler?"
Caution aside, she leaves with the stranger.
At sundown, gates inch toward closing.
Folks converge and hurry home,
oblivious of the lamb that strayed.
A lone ten-speed waits in moonlight.
Ellen A. Grazioso teaches literature at a high school in New Jersey. She has been a professional folksinger for most of her adult life, but is presently content to record original lyrics and cover songs. A combination of a love of folk music and narrative poetry has influenced her poetic style. Her poem "For Ida and Isidor" has been published in issue #48 of The Paterson Literary Review in April 2020. Some of her other publications include The Voices Project, Red Flag Poetry, Poetry Express, and Madness Muse Magazine.