I have something in my eye
A swirling curl of a fresh unfurled, budding,
fawn of newest life blocking the moonlit rays.
Teaching me to wait and sit
and appreciate what we can simply eat.
The blood of visions is hard to reign.
Yet we feel our presence here since, forever.
A blast in the spin of a woman that came as kin.
Beside a lake.
Deep in a soggy meadow.
Wolves howl over cliffs,
because they lose what they can't remember
but they never stop feeling what they'll never forget.
Burning up, alive, to rise and settle lightly again...
or just laugh at how serious we all took it,
until we grin. Get light again.
Too easy to lift.
As soft as a feather, as free as its bird.
For,
June McClung (c) 12/2014
#ModernPoetry
No comments:
Post a Comment