Leaves, Wind
Limited in language, mighty in message, they are
signaling us: They are embracing each other, knowing
the heart is what matters. They are darting out
with serpent tongues, forked or otherwise,
nevertheless speaking the truth.
They are undulating like Circe in heat. They are fans,
waving to China, until, the "aidez moi" fails, and then
they are consigned to Braille in an endless silence;
feet, bound at birth, promised to the philandering
roots, the mighty pillar that supports them.
Overhead, an invisible plane rises straight up
to the Big Okay, leaving a trail of tissue, taking our
tenuous dreams and aspirations to the place where
they should go. If only we knew the way.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
