In the low ceiling crypt
Where they chose to gather
The etched and rounded brick
Thows a mesh of shadows
With candlelit plot soup thick
She waxes again, like sips
Of hot coffee, water.
Energy courses as tips
In spring force through dark earth
Bulb to light, flip state switch
Kite born over the sea
She feels free for sprouting
Throughout the estuary
She still carrying her
Physical memory
And will not be waylayed
On road to them, she found
A way, there are others
And dozens of others
Who will be a band in
Waves and light, uncovered
Chorus of voices unite.
Fight gave purpose afresh
They were not the usual
Superfluous flesh.
No comments:
Post a Comment