Two Poems by Danielle Page

 

 

Hades’ Song

 

woman of wheat, 

braider of tales, 

i only imitated the 

inheritance 

you swore to her, 

that apple cheeked 

and blazing haired 

child.

 

for she leapt into

my pit, beaming.

i strung leuce

leaves to adorn 

her pale neck, split 

seed from tender 

flesh for the feasting,

whispered more, 

that silly word, 

and polished 

her ivory claws 

for tearing.

 

i will keep her, 

laughing in 

a palace of her 

own choosing, 

until the dead

call her kin.

 

 

Demeter’s Reprise  

 

pour drops of sun

and seed down

the abyss, soak 

the shrivelled 

earth with your 

grief until 

ghostly flowers 

burst outward, 

their petals a

fragment of hues

long forgotten 

in the land of 

the lost. 

  

cover the chasm 

walls with braided 

sheafs of gold, 

forming footholds 

of mercy, a lattice

of life, and fast 

for the feast of 

plenty upon

her return, 

above all, 

open your mouth

and speak words 

of delight over 

tartarus’ gate.  

pour drops of sun

and seed til her

solemn face lifts
and colours–
ashen to blushed
to radiant, til her
thin fingers
reach yours,
til you lift her
weightless body
onto your back
and climb to
the land
of the living,
til you both stand,
beaming.

Danielle Page is a truth-teller, writer, educator, and editor of the Clayjar Review. When she’s not reading up on composition theory, she’s scribbling in her moleskine journal or hiking a mountainous trail. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in the Whale Road Review, Celestite, The Raven Review, Dream Noir Magazine, The Amethyst Review, and Ekstasis Magazine.