The Stranded Prophet

Cynthia Pitman

I carve my warning into the stone
with my own broken bones.
As night descends, no one comes.
I start a fire, stoke it,
watch the gray smoke curl higher,
and send signals with vaporous words.
No one sees them
except the night’s eyes, the stars,
which tear up and turn blood red
as the smoke erupts.
Scattered around on the ground
lie brown brittle palm fronds,
wind-strewn by the wild storm.
I take one into my trembling hand
and etch a cryptic script into the sand
in a code only the moon knows.
But she and I both already know
I will always and forever be alone.

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Cynthia Pitman
Cynthia Pitman from Orlando, FL, is the author of poetry collections The White Room, Blood Orange, and Breathe (Kelsay Books) and has been published in Bright Flash Review, Amethyst Review, Heart of Flesh, Literary Yard, The Ekphrastic Review, Third Wednesday (One Sentence Poem Contest finalist), Saw Palm: Florida Literature and Art (Pushcart Prize nominee), and other journals, and in Vita Brevis Press anthologies Pain and Renewal, Brought to Sight & Swept Away, Nothing Divine Dies, and What is All This Sweet Work?