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Ashes

It looked at me with the eyes of a primate,
elemental being,
hominid with wrinkled skin
at the dawn of prehistory.
It watched me bury ashes
of preterit man
without incense or urn.
Hanging from lianas between trees,
a botched Tarzan
never imagined by E.R. Burroughs.
It leapt across creeks
In the dense jungle.
Echoes of roars in the distance,
brutal, archaic eyes.
I’m free of past phantoms
of my childish imagination.

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

Well I couldn't help but see a monster here, and the imagination of a little girl, don't quite know why
What a wonderful imagination indeed.
Your title is dramatic

Thank you...Teddy

Dear Teddy, thank you for your always welcome visits. I used to have terrible nightmares as a child, so I suppose I was remembering one or two when I wrote the poem. Things just pop up...lol.
All the best, Gracy

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment

Pre human or human we all become ashes of history..........

Hi, how are you? The poem is about phantoms in nightmares, especially childhood ones. So it's more metaphorical than anything else. You have a point, of course.
All the best, Gracy

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment
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