Get Your Premium Membership

Sloughing

Rubbing roughly Against fractured rocks Turning and contorting in Dark dank soil Brushing over brittle bark: Tumbling over tangles of Fallen dead discarded branches No hands to use to free myself, Vulnerable in this transmutation… Knowing exactly how it feels To pull yourself out of your own skin Only to begin the cycle All over again

Copyright © | Year Posted 2006




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

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.


Book: Reflection on the Important Things