Feb 2021
~I look at the buds still wrapped
on the ripening kernels. I want
to be in there, unhatched and unpolished.
—Shirley Kaufman, "Poem in November", Gift of Tongues
Death's wings
written January 10th, 2021
The Angel Death
wraps his wings around me
I feel him there
when I stop suddenly
Death's wings
jostling around me
settling into place.
He holds his breath
so I won't have that proof
of his presence
or any other
reassurance in this life.
Are his wings protection?
or curse?
Their silence wrapped around
is my well known company
these many years
Death's wings my comfort in life.
on the ripening kernels. I want
to be in there, unhatched and unpolished.
—Shirley Kaufman, "Poem in November", Gift of Tongues
Death's wings
written January 10th, 2021
The Angel Death
wraps his wings around me
I feel him there
when I stop suddenly
Death's wings
jostling around me
settling into place.
He holds his breath
so I won't have that proof
of his presence
or any other
reassurance in this life.
Are his wings protection?
or curse?
Their silence wrapped around
is my well known company
these many years
Death's wings my comfort in life.
I wrote this while reading a bunch of gritty urban fantasy. It is fun to try on different things. The poetry that I post as inspiration, is part of my poem also. I love that I am writing again! Thank you for reading me!
