My Word
my word stands
askanced- sliced through
a sliver of vision
darting curiously
amongst meaning-
leaning against
edges, growling in
hungry whispers-
plucks its own feathers-
burns its own whiskers-
intention is minute made
invention- a testament to
time- to rhyme, echoes
of thought meaning nothing,
meaning everything- to
unfold sense, the sting of
understanding, the hopped
fence- my word wanders,
plunders, evokes, lights
up the spirit & tokes
Copyright © Rachel Hart | 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