T--Bunny slippers

The viper burned at your breast
and it hissed at me,
the fire of your eyes
is just a flicker now.

The harvester has come to reap
and to take my golden corn
and leave me with this
barren waste land.

My seed will never
grow again and my heart
will now beat alone.

Brown bag,
full of,
what was you,
your smile your hope,

and your bunny slippers.