The Book of Omens – Poem by Cynthia Pitman

Poetry by Cynthia Pitman

Behind the old car
resting on cinder blocks
beside the barn
lies a beaten and broken book.
Its weathered hide
won’t tell its name,
and the rain-soaked pages,
dirty and torn,
won’t reveal its secrets.
Only a few words peek out:
diadem,
garland,
craven,
oracles,. . .

I read the words
and try to put them together.

Maybe:
The diadems of the craven oracles
are but garland wound around their heads,
soon to tighten and break their visions.


Or:
Craven garlands strangle
the diadems of the oracles,
prophesizing their doom.

Or could it be:
The craven with their diadems
fear the oracles with their garlands,
knowing the end is now near.

I wonder which message,
if any,
the old book is trying to send me.
It is a warning, I am sure,
but of what, I don’t know.
But I will continue to wrap the words
Within my mind
and keep my diadem well-hidden.


About the Poet

Cynthia Pitman is a retired high school English teacher. She has had poetry published in Vita BrevisEkphrastic ReviewPostcard Poems and ProseRight Hand PointingLiterary Yard,Amethyst ReviewAdelaide Literary MagazineThree Line PoetryLeaves of Ink, Third Wednesday, Scarlet Leaf, Ariel Chart, and Mused. Her first poetry collection, The White Room, is forthcoming from Kelsay Books.

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