that waved between her
and freedom
grew hard
in undercurrents
of turbulence
the rainbow
that shined across the
border to peace
darkened
into a storm
of darkness
and no matter
what she said
and no matter
what she did
and no matter
what she was
and no matter
how she hid
nothing could stop
the authority of the land
from correcting
her spirit
as it pulled
her soul
back home
(gone)
Is there some irony that correction fluid is also known as white out? Merely rhetorical .... no need to reply. Apply? Re-apply?
ReplyDeletemike nesmith likes this comment. i actually had the feelings to this poem before i was given this picture.... i was glad to have a place to put them.
DeleteMike and I are glad for your reply - it seems a little window opened for a peek at your metier. I must return to this piece, and see what may be filleted by the results of my angling . . . .
ReplyDeletelet me know where your collections end up.... i need all the inspiration i can get
Delete