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This poem came out of an exercise were we all had to write to the phrase
'Alice Died in Wonderland'.
Alice Died in Wonderland
A the end of the forest
the Caterpillar waits for answers
puffs heavy questions into the evening air.
“She will come,” he mumbles.
Sun-flowered thoughts
trip up and down his windpipe,
sweet essences float above his head
and his eye roll toward heaven.
“She must come,” he whispers
Grasping spindled legs
around the sweltering hookah
holding onto earth becomes as necessary as breathing
as difficult as a moon landing
He listens to the disappearing wind.
”She will not come,” he cries.
leans deeper into smoky deliverance.
He is utterly alone.
~ Composed by Bonnie Nish
Previously published in Quills Canadian Poetry Magazine, March 2004
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