Lydia Erickson
Cain

Often I dream of cutting flesh and stripping bone
of harvesting myself a home, a place of power
in the marrow, to cut the wings from the sparrow

Often I see in the night a fire inside blazing bright
a hateful effigy of my fright the walls fall in, the walls fall in
What is its name, this hateful sin?

Nevermind, nevermind its name,  cover it up
this ancient shame, this jealousy, this age-old cry, this urge
to see my brother die

he with evil eye who       pry           pry             pry
and paste upon my face a lie

I will not let him see me.

_ _

>> Click here to download an mp3 recording of Sir Christopher Ricks reading Lydia Erickson's "Cain." This file may be shared without limitation.

Lydia Erickson is a member of the Clarion editorial team. She posts new writing at lydiaerickson.com, and can be found on Twitter as @lilyanquill.

>> Back to Issue 18, 2015