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f i s h t a i l . . .
powdered blush
a dawn
broken
a fractured mirror
in the winds
the arms
speak
high in the dark
limbs
s-curve
in the light
melding
through
to the other room
free of the wings
and shackles
all that you strove
for raising all
hackles..
Editing stage:
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Comments
Roscoe Lane
Thu, 2013-11-07 01:01
This poem,
This poems as with most of your poems evokes so many memories and some successes i might add. Regards Roscoe...
Roscoe Llane,
Religion will rip your faith off, and return
for the mask of disbelief that's left.
Seren
Thu, 2013-11-07 07:12
Steven
This one speaks of many things the imagery is wonderful but then it always is, there is a feeling of separation at one point then it all closes in again, this felt freeing like a release. I thoroughly enjoyed the read you took me there and back
love JC xxx
“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats
Rula
Thu, 2013-11-07 07:49
I mostly
liked the dawn's fractured mirror.
I thought it is an amazing image you've painted with your pen.
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