A City In Thunder
Daughter buried in a arm-fold.
Half limp karma, licking at her hand.
Red polka-dot head light…and
Something frightening, found in the sand.
Fairy tales have laid waste,
in my dormant to rehearse,
when after everything you realize,
that they were written in reverse.
As the mother once revealed:
“And sleeping beauty never wakes up…
Or maybe it was in the strange,
that she never could finish anything...”
I never bathed her in the cripple color!
Still, she hopes that I’ll never be saved,
and so the survivors of the city in thunder,
who started to cut on the Moses wave.
So now?
…I lie buried to wait for the rain,
A city in thunder confronted again.
Copyright © Francois Hillebrand | Year Posted 2008
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