- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Matchless
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Click hereIn this version
when she was cold
she struck a match
not to burn a blossom
of remembrance,
but to flame the raveled
sleeve of care to ashes.
In this version
immolation was not
an option,
death was not
a proud rediscovery
of saity or grandmother
beckoning a better world.
In this version
she walked away
from the bonfire,
carried the ragged future
in strong stained hands,
vowing a tomorrow
of barefoot perseverance
beyond the wind's
gray scatterlings.
- COMMENTS
WickedEveabout 19 years agoshe struck a match
not to burn a blossom
of remembrance,
Angelineabout 19 years agoAuthorIt's me misspelling satiety. It was late. I was tired. My bad. :D
Anonymousabout 19 years agoLately your work has been a joy to read. The words have
a rhythm that flows with each work. This is just another
example I love. sandspike
Reltneabout 19 years agoWhat wonderful words! Thank you so much for this wersion of a vision. My favorite lines,
"carried the ragged future
in strong stained hands,"
nicely carry and forgive the triter phrase of, "the raveled
sleeve of care". It works perfectly, taking the mundane to a strong fresh conceptual image.
I have never seen "scatterlings" before, but it is so appropriate!
Thank you!
