The Rudiments of Wings
THE RUDIMENTS OF WINGS
Barely stubs,
these soul nodules,
not yet protruding the surface,
still part of the wormlike me.
The force of metamorphosis
thrusts hard against filmy chrysalis;
meconium pulses, dilating miniscule veins.
The terror of change soon will cease,
bring release,
to the rudiments of wings.
February 24, 2022
Copyright © Faye Gibson | Year Posted 2022
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment