deliverance...

let the rattle of shame
wind down like a cricket
whose season is done

let the sound of it wane
in the thicket of weeds
where it had begun

let the feel of it dull
like the thorn of a rose
beside a rock wall

let us answer no more
to the desperate sound
of its ebbing call

let shame be the wild child
that we let run away
from our hopeful nest

let us labor no more
to secure that sere bird
a snug place to rest...

Lucy Meskill