Olena Kalytiak Davis - Corruptive

The dark wood after the dark wood: the cold
after cold in April's false November.
In that second worser place: more gone, less there,
but in that lurid present present, cast and held,
rooted, kept, like some old false-berried yew.
Just against; the door leading to preferment
shut; no longer believing in still, by some, few
means, method, could be, but for the bad day set,
left, leaning atop bad day.
Out- and un-
ranked, toothached, wronged— rankled corruptive thing!
Ill-wishing, in-iquitous, clipped, up-hoped, stripped: just plain: thin.
Dare thy commit: commit this final fatal sin:
God my God, I am displeased by spring.

Olena Kalytiak Davis

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/corruptive/