Age Five, April, Maybe
Lying in grass cradle
blanketed warm air
wrapped – rapt – eyes captured
cloud armies in immortal combat
with themselves
sucked into their self-inflicted wounds
no retreat from slip - jetstream
frigid regions of an infertile mind.
Curling smile crisply carves
fine furrows
dainty dimpled flesh
developing sense of humorous perceptions.
I turned to tell a friend
who wasn't there yet.
I rose and left
a convolution in crushed cradle
of wet grass
in my child's mind.
Poetry by NotaDeadPoet
Read 951 times
Written on 2007-01-05 at 05:14
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Cumulus Nimbus
Lying in grass cradle
blanketed warm air
wrapped – rapt – eyes captured
cloud armies in immortal combat
with themselves
sucked into their self-inflicted wounds
no retreat from slip - jetstream
frigid regions of an infertile mind.
Curling smile crisply carves
fine furrows
dainty dimpled flesh
developing sense of humorous perceptions.
I turned to tell a friend
who wasn't there yet.
I rose and left
a convolution in crushed cradle
of wet grass
in my child's mind.
Poetry by NotaDeadPoet
Read 951 times
Written on 2007-01-05 at 05:14
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text