Escaping echoes.A Poem by rebeccarellisThe ground drives in. I look to it now, Placing my steps, printing them As stakes of balance, wood On my arms, my tentacled mourning.
It steams in clover's honey; Pulls me down by wordless traps Where folded shuffles unmuffle Their negotiators Who are tasked With the hunger of living.
Spilled out, I inhale The realest of beds: Its porous womb A mother Calmly catching tears.
The sound of hooves Bleeds lighter Along the needling path And I am still In my horse's wake.
Oh earth, ring me in soil Or expel me, violently Like a stone. © 2012 rebeccarellis |
Stats
127 Views
Added on May 10, 2012 Last Updated on May 10, 2012 Author
|