They told me not to be afraid.

It’s just a noisy storm they said.
But I saw the giant lying dead
across the street, his arms outspread
to hold the bit of earth he’d guarded.
They told me not to be afraid.
There must have been decay they said.
But I saw them chip away his head
And scatter him in the garden bed,
Burying all evidence against the murderous wind.

© 2011 Elizabeth Ehrenfest Steinglass, all rights reserved