Alabaster fog lifts from fields that were green
before nightfall.
Dawn pushes the moist sweat of summer slumber
away, lifting.
Flightless, I reflect on what it was to be a worm, never knowing.
Among the trees I stand and reflect...
How could it be that beauty was so far removed from my eyes,
that anger and criticism were sold like health food to the dying?
Its silk wrapped us all in white perfection...
Now, as the sun rises, everything is new,
even me...in ways;
But I am old now, wrestling with brittle wings;
tired of the wasted effort of contradiction,
and all this cutting of the fabric carefully stitched around me
by myself,
before I was born again...to fly away
so new, and yet...so old.
Author notes
AN: zorman32
So we weren't supposed to be cliche, commercialized, or write crap. I feel like I just did...
A contest entry
- a place between the cocoons and wrinkles. by bird-mad girl.
1750 points, ended November 19, 2008, 15 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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I thought the beginning was kind of slow and the third line was a bit of a mouthful. I think the beginning and some parts in the middle could use a bit more imagery and descriptions. I don't know what it is exactly, but something felt like it was missing from your piece.
As the piece moved on though, it picked up speed and the situation you wrote on felt so personal. I'm young so I thought it was fasinating to reflect on the world, through your piece, with older eyes.
I really like the ending. It wasn't happy or even really hopeful but satisfying and honest.
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