Poetry in motion.
On her curved thrusting back
And her ploughman's knotted arms
The sweat of earth on stone.
Tendons strain and crack,
And clotted sinews swarm
Over all her grinding bones.
The spotlight's glaring eye
And the violin's plaintive cry
Show quite a different feat.
A sheer gauze fairytale,
She hovers, poignant, pale,
And flies- a fragile vision
On silken calloused feet.
3 comments:
I've missed reading you. I just realised how much. :)
Not as bad as you had me believe C:
The way you write, its not just poetry.. It's poetic justice.
Post a Comment