the hanged man

crossroads_micro_poem
Blow me a kiss
and demonstrate which of the four
you’ve chosen
I’ll bide until this rope stops turning
faithless lover
but what you stole I minded most
becalmed now
Westward your face hangs agape
watch a traitor
dwindle to the horizon – free from guilt

Note:
Gibbets were often placed at cross roads “pour encourager les autres”

In ten lines or less for the Sunday mini: The Crossroads

20 comments

  1. I love the persepctive of this poem – from the eyes of a hanged man – and the way you’ve used the Tarot a way into the prompt. I love the lines:
    ‘I’ll bide until this rope stops turning
    faithless lover’
    so passionate and bitter, coming from the gibbet!

    Like

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