She came into city's dazzle
where hard hand of it amazed and glazed her eyes,
like leaded glass on highest gothic arch
wherein the hymns are played by old hands
that have not yet been stunned by awe
and search the bat-crouched belfry spire
for something they can say is adoration.
And there, in that aerie with no eagle
to show her how to fly, she leapt
like spin web of sweaters unravel
put, out between pillared offices
and tired men, rocking their office chairs
so they cut grooves in their boredom.
And, here, her face pressed upon glass,
like cheek of lover, like lips to mirror,
she knew the way of flight over tall abutments
to quilted horizon that held the net of trees
for her to land, and remember swift her move
back to what she knew: Ground, rich and raw
and ready for her nesting when had wearied
of her huddle between buildings that hid her sky.
Author notes
shewolfnative
jpg is photograph provided by flight,the contest holder.
A contest entry
- behind the city by flight.
900 points, ended February 11, 2008, 19 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
These words had me experiencing the whole thing!
WOW, what a trip...
"And there, in that aerie with no eagle
to show her how to fly, she leapt
like spin web of sweaters unravel
put, out between pillared offices
and tired men, rocking their office chairs
so they cut grooves in their boredom."
Picture Perfect, M'Lady!
~ Nicky♥
Adding your comment:
