A little bit of greed had crossed my mind,
when I saw brother, pale with that lush fruit.
Like a ghost he sat, yet my envy grew.
I rushed down the hall to my dear mother
and in a single breath I told my tale,
Oh dear brother, why did I heed her word?
Your head rolled, and beside it went my mind.
Mom's wolfish grin claimed you for supper,
but you deserved more than Midas could give.
I took your remains, and wrapped them in silk.
You rested by the woman with no name.
As a bird sang on that juniper tree.
That night we ate my brother's memory,
father with sorrow on his furrowed brow,
and mother whose mask was merely a mirror.
That little songbird came down from heaven,
and mother's mask started gaining some cracks,
as the bird sang on that juniper tree.
With a final song, my mother was gone,
and on her gravestone, my dear brother stood.
it was a miracle, our love was warm.
Our hearts embraced by that juniper tree.