O Eeys That Loke
by: Sippican Cottage
Banquo’s ghosts all shuffle in
Take their chairs and we begin
They whisper things incessantly
Beyond the ken of men like me
I want to speak but I am mute
So they continue in cahoots
Or I can speak but never dare
To make a squeak while they are there
They hold a mirror to my face
While drawing marks to prove their case
Regret is limned in every one
Perish crosshatched when they’re done
The statue’s broke, there’s no repair
But broken now it cannot wear
But I am worn down — there’s the rub
Until I join their shady club
There’s one among them I can’t stand
I’ve felt the touch of his right hand
If he ever looks me in the eye
I’ll lay down on the ground and die
It’s worse than that; he does not linger
Or look my way or lift a finger
I turned my back on him you see
Can’t help but turn his back on me
Now I wander all alone
The seconds tick by like a loan
I’ll sit and murmur in my turn
While children fill my leaky urn
One Response
foregive us our trespasses