Beneath the Veil
by Killian Grace
Like willowisps shining in the bog
Leading unwary travelers to their deaths
Her eyes gleam behind the veil
Of net and mystery.
I do not want to see my death
Reflected in the brown-green of those eyes
Deep as quicksand that buries you
In moments, drowning in Earth.
Mother, devour me only up to my ankles
Your leeches biting at me
And let me fly from your danger
If not unscathed, then at least still
With love as well as reverence for you.