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Rain Shining On Tin



she draws long hand motion
like bad chalk 

noise
down me

my feathers drop like needles red-tipped.  I move
into her sweat the long sigh of a dying bird crushed
by consecutive black space holes

in tones
she swoons infinity threads

she sways a gray like flame shadows of smoky fields 
crackling in sun cores

the bouquet, I know the dead alive, I've breathed
and I've breathed 
garden fumes in flooded rooms

in such ground
are lovers unlost housed

but forgotten
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Author notes

prompt #3 http://s7.photobucket.com/albums/y297/woodiebluez/?action=view¤t=shadowwomen3.jpg


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Comments


  • Black Narcissus gold member
    November 2

    Edit | Reply
    Why, why, why do I read your poems

    * Sells soul to the devil in hope of writing like this*


  • Night Hope gold member
    November 1

    Edit | Reply

    There is a vividly lucid, almost wild instinct, that dwells among these impressively-woven words. My favorites among this intense penning are the third, fourth and fifth stanzas, although I am mightily impressed by the entire piece. Good luck in the contest, Sweetie.