23 of 30, 2015

The Good Doctor

On advice of a wizard who visited him
daily, the King took to swallowing bits
of the True Cross. First to tame excess

of bile, later to tread in the shadow
of whispered possibilities. The nobles
heard at court and followed. The people

made their parched murmur and looked
for other ways not to die. Naturally,
a shard stuck, and the King expired.

No pretenders to blame, and God
perhaps in solidarity kept tacit.
No one to ask at last but the wizard.