Poetry

Celestial Alphabet (Sandcastle 3.14)

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Ancient river curls
like a snake unfurling
in the morning sun.

The fallen angel
kneels in silt and strokes
quilted reflections,
lamenting these
are the only clouds she
will ever touch again
++++fallacy
illusions she can smear
with ripples to remind herself
it’s just a mirror.

The sky is untouchable now.

She mourns her mortality,
her innocence
++++in a sense.
She, who used to compose
stories in the stars
with an unwritten alphabet,
letters neither you nor I
++++have read
like ashes in the bending wind
scattering seeds across
the prairie’s bed.

Weary head bowed,
she folds her bloody
wings like a wilted
++++autumn leaf.
Her tapestry shall remain
an unfinished piece
of art admired by many
while the artist looks on
with glassy eyes,
++++the only one
who sees the faults in her
masterpiece.

 

 

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