{"sf1_id":1705623,"sf2_id":"pnGaZ2ey","title":"Ballade of the Recently Dispossessed","author":"Rob MacWolf","words":324,"posted_at":"2021-04-11T18:09:00.000Z","tags":["Ballade","Poetry"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1705623-ballade-of-the-recently-dispossessed","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/pnGaZ2ey","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/f6/b1/f6b16328-52aa-4771-975e-df67e932edd2","description":"#28 of poetry\n\nLook, I never promised I was done with the bitter poems entirely, just the ones from 2020.\nThis one's earlier.","content":"I planted apple trees between the shadow of the pines  \nI lit the lanterns, scrubbed the sun-starved windows of their scum  \nFor aye, this house was emptiness, and this home would be mine  \nBut promises are lies and jests when truth with autumn comes.  \nI cleared the crumbling rubble and I brushed away the crumbs  \nBut to make room for you, I see. Then in the house you've got,  \nMay you be home, and so forget the one you took it from,  \nFor I, I was a stranger, and you welcomed me not.\n\nI thought we'd weathered worse than this. I thought that I was tough.  \nI thought to put down roots at last, and not to roam again.  \nI thought so many things, my dear. I think I've thought enough.  \nIf I began to act I cannot think what you'd think then.  \nThe birds have nests. The foxes have their foxholes and their dens.  \nThe lilies have their field at least, though that is not a lot.  \nAt least one son of wolf, it seems, has only where he's been,  \nFor I, I was a stranger, and you welcomed me not.\n\nPlease do not say you meant well, or that it's for the best.  \nWe all have heard what paves the road to certain realms below.  \nAnd please pretend no ignorance of what you've dispossessed:  \nBlessed are the amnesiac, whose past no one need know.  \nThe wounds the world and treachery continue to bestow  \nHave your name in the ending credits, as an afterthought.  \nYou should have known. You do not know. I think you'll never know,  \nBut I, I was a stranger. And you welcomed me not.\n\nPrincess, I cannot curse you. No more can I forget.  \nIf that be weakness, why, then I am weaker than I thought.  \nIf that be forgiveness, then I will take what I can get.  \nFor aye, I am a stranger. And you welcomed me not.\n\n  \n  \n\n","series":{"name":"poetry","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1705609-the-cheshire-cat.json","next":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1705625-ballade-against-cheesemongery.json"}}