Monday, July 3, 2017

Lightning

Lightning planted
across the skies -
still eyes
and the visible current 
of blood -

truth be told
I don't shake anymore -
my trembling from the thunder
is a frozen feeling -
an ice spear
that shreds my insides.

Sometimes, within me,
a shrub matures -
green and frail yet full, so full -

I present it 
an easy death -

uprooting the wreath
with all my might -

I leave it a shorn stem,
a beckoning stem -
lightning like?