- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Freedom
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Cool, fresh dawn
finds my bruised body
running past fences,
empty promises,
toward that cliff
where shadows race.
Damp grass beneath my feet,
abruptly airborne,
past the stony face
of life where I am not a lesion
desperate to heal.
Like the Phoenix, I am
a form rising from ashes
to soar again.
***********
Thank you Angeline.
- COMMENTS
Liarover 13 years agoThere was another version of this the other day, right?
Big improvment here. Nice to see a poet take the time and effort to reflect on their writing and come back stronger.
buttersover 13 years agofor me, this would hold more oomph if you ended it with that great phrase
past the stony face of life
where I am not a lesion
the final lines smack of cliché, but if you used Phoenix as your title, i don't think the allusion would be lost on the reader.
