Deception
(Found Poem from William
Golding's Lord of the Flies, pages 11-69)
In the beginnings of a thick forest,
a green roof lit by a tangle of golden
reflections
the palms talk
a castanet sound
So many sweets
The color of deep cream
Pink granite, Blue flowers
It's a good island
a flurry of wind
we ought to have a meeting
with weary feet on a trunk
a conch, touched with fading pink
Then darkness dropped
the patter of hooves
seductive, maddening
a shadow under the darkness
the sun had gone, a light turned off
tormented by silence
the wail rose, remote and unearthly
breath after breath
Under the remote stars
suffered untold horrors
overcome with astonishment
at his reflection
You should have seen the blood
Between the patches of red and white
an angry eye, and painted faces
maybe it isn't a good island after all.
