Is it so final?
Are we to entrench ourselves
In unforgiving earth,
Piteously compliant
Like wretched elms,
Mindlessly motionless,
Fettered by our own roots,
Subject to the whims
Of sun and moon,
Induced to live and die
And cast off our leaves
As spiteful seasons would please?
I pray for the axe
To pierce my side at last
And make me a kindling –
A stage for dancing flames.
Hi Nadya, It's been a while since I found the time to visit your blog. I've just sat here reading the last few posts/poems and really enjoyed them - thank you.
ReplyDeleteI think you did a great job on the sonnet - I know how hard they are to get right and Firewood is just great.
Sharon - Thank you for visiting! It's been a while since I've had the time to post anything. It'll be another rough two weeks or so and then (hopefully) I'll have more time to devote to writing.
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