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The Eclectic Pen - Untitled

By: Eva L. (wearetrees)   + 37 more  
Date Submitted: 4/4/2008
Last Updated: 11/30/2008
Genre:
Words: 104
Rating:

The halo of long fields, a silent canvas awake in an impossible panoply of brook and branch we stir beneath the bejeweled sky it’s kind to us This time last year I was so small, pill-size tongue-tied, guarding against thoughts of the sickle a quiet stirring in the intimate leitmotif of the morning its underbelly sheds night stars as my feet mingle with the shuffling sentence of the soil like the perfect nodding heads of blades of grass I burn, too, lover though not as bright not as long - a steward to sadness a sieve Take a razor to these plains, paint them, inflate them watch my body bend rise every dawn, cold with the crescent - wily hands throwing coins to the crows, bread to the dead.

The Eclectic Pen » All Stories by Eva L. (wearetrees)

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