Ice To Eyes
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bare ...
she stood blinking,
arms out like a crooked crucifix,
dangling fingers, as if waiting for a ring ...
frozen flakes fell fat, and fatter,
from what was once scorched azure breath -
you'd think an eyelash could carry such a burden,
yet one Chantilly crystal proved dire ...
lid, clamped and sealed with surety,
fast-melting snow, a-mix with tear and trickling ...
no sooner had it reached her lip,
than a gasp of sacred hopes, unspoken ...
scattered it to the bitter wind,
turning it back to ice,
and a prayer ...
sacrificed.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Strand Choice S Any Theme Any Form" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2019
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