Step on a Crack by Debra Webb Roberts

I am not a silent poet

Mother has a crooked neck
a crown of royal pains
too heavy for her head

She’s ravaged every closet,
every shore around the world
Built castles to ensure her clutch
but grip has lost is shine and strength

The peers and piers and moorings loosed
the hunt long done, the goose
is fully feathered and deboned

Island in the sea, afloat
and target for the desperate lot
whose hunger fans the flames of want
each drifting towards that greener shore

No pity found, no coinage left
for desecrated millions rolled,
who sought out refuge in the feathered nest
whose purse strings drawn so tight that all
within its reach shall starve

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