Aflame
Tonight, the horizon burns like metal
Molted and shot from a mouth of fire
The trees stand scorched, coal-chalked pictures
In the sky hangs a fleeting smile
Molted and shot, from a mouth of fire
Twisted from wire, but tender, yet to be shaped
In the sky hangs a fleeting smile
The work of an artist, holding beauty in crude hands
Twisted from wire, but tender, yet to be shaped –
The trees stand, scorched coal-chalked pictures
The work of an artist holding beauty, in crude hands
tonight. The horizon burns like metal.
Copyright © Grace Eunsong Lee | Year Posted 2010
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