Dark Poetry #4 |
like a swan |
JenniferMaxwell
since 2006-09-14
Posts 2423 |
he was autumn rain and the sweet scent of wood smoke a floating island for my tender green a monolith carved from carrara marble a desert wind trembling poppies in the field of my days he measured the distance between us in versts I swam in the waters of a stream running dry chaining my daisies to his riverbed rock breathing the iron of his oxygen he taught me to sing to the longing in his eyes and delivered me out of the family of Lot I held out my hand to bring him to spring and felt the nail of his winter pierce the scars |
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© Copyright 2008 JenniferMaxwell - All Rights Reserved | |||
Abbeon Member
since 2006-11-30
Posts 228Curiousity, and wonder |
Lovely, and very enjoyable. The hollow emptiness, the crazed thoughts left to survive |
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JenniferMaxwell
since 2006-09-14
Posts 2423 |
Thanks, Abbeon, it's Dancemaster, an older poem, from a different perspective. Still haven't got it quite the way I want it. Oh well. |
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