PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

    Out in the pasture, dirt and grass

Nestled crib on crib in a bucket

  Great white chrystals of salt formed

             An intricuit design

  An interwoven filigree of shapes and sizes

In which dragonflies and yellowjackets lay trapped

  As intrepid explorers frozen in arctic ice

They've long since turned to mud

  But it had been so long since i looked

It's impossible not to wonder

How they molded and re-formed

     As i was molded and re-formed

And how they are no more than mud in a bucket now

That i am nothing more than sick and tired



Where did i find myself as the dragonflies writhed

                their last dance?

As the child-ghosts call out to me from the trees

How long has it been since i discarded my innocence

  in favor of cheap thrills and ropes that bind?

It may as have been a century, a millenium

  for all the connection that there is now

As the pristine white lost its lustre

Was i wiling away the days in love?

  Or was i breaking the flesh in hate?

   Was i reciting monlogues to the sky?

         Hoping that she might hear them?

Was it chasing it down with water

        wishing that i'd never hear anything again?

As the crystals melted in the heat of summer

i must have been lifted again and again

and hitting the ground without too much desire

to discover my legs one more time.