To Miss. Dickinson
Confined your body, a
window seat in glass.
passion with folded hands allowed the world a glimpse
inside--
demanding obediance formed in
glass;
flows into molds inescapable,
but in words.
parlors of conventional reason.
a slow ticking clock and porcelan cup.
passions restrained crawling;
the watchful eye - your heart.
a kiss to see your eyes flash:
a tea cup falling;
the freedom of a possibility......
we escape
This poem is a draft yet to be completed. It needs a deeper study
Copyright © Orphani ..........O | Year Posted 2009
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