Tuesday, February 4, 2014

Rooted

Immobile.
Not because
Of the shoe-bites,
Though
They hurt like hell
And
She could just about
Feel the peeling skin
She goes
Any further
And the tender wounded spot
Might actually
Start oozing.
But that was
The last thing
That made her
Stay.
Lonely
In the
Milling crowd.
Her train of thoughts
Tore her.
If only she could
Manipulate
Her heart
In tandem with
Her head.
Let go of
That fleeting glance.
She stood there
Between
Flickering hope
And
Wavering emotions.
Her red coat
Gathered
Snow flakes.
Overhead,
The falcons flew home.
Slowly,
His
Retreating carriage
Hid in the
Mist.

Linking with Trifecta : Week 111

17 comments:

  1. "If only she could manipulate her heart in tandem with her head." Wow! If only, indeed. What a beautiful way to put it.

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    1. Thank you so much. Your words lifted up my spirits for this post

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  2. Ah,if only...brilliantly evocative!

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    1. And yours too Atreyee. Thank you so much for your kind words.

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    2. And yours too Atreyee. Thank you so much for your kind words.

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  3. Excellent use of form. Just really good.

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  4. There is so much longing in this, and using physical and emotional pain in counterpoint really lifted this LM x

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    1. Thank you so much Lyssa for such inspiring feedback

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  5. Beautiful, Ruby. The falcons flying home was so touching!

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    1. Thank you so much Kymm. I always looks forward to hear from you :)

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  6. This is so gorgeous I read it twice. :)

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    1. Thank you so much Ivy. It is so inspiring to hear such kind words from you

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Since every thought is a seed, I am looking forward to a delicious harvest.