For The Few

A poem for the few.

 For the few

Who couldn't be pronounced dead

On arrival,

Though never fully living.

Animated, unanimated...

 

Permit breath of the hills

Into your twiney hair,

As rolling grips and obligates.

 

No bridge,

Between two summit peaks.

You must gather your own direction and momentum.

Terrain, dry and dust infested,

Scraping bristles in union,

Of you, me and the ground.

 

Caress the brittle velvet soil -

Parched in segregated grains.

 

Some grains slip through.

Dirt, through gaps in fingers -

 

For those few

Droplets through clouds,

Never land.

Bring life back

Again to the Earth.

Reviews

[Emily Elizabeth]

Gorgeous writting, full of depth and exploration. Could really feel the movement of the dry Earth through your poetry. Loved the language and the imagery of the parched land, brilliant. And very original and powerful piece. Something that's becoming a rarity on this site. Well done!