on your erratic orbit
around some greater force
how can I be the earth,
the moon, a celestial body
so perfectly round, a mother,
a sphere like a jewel
without falling hard against
your rough edge,
without brushing
your scarred surface over
my cheek, without
shifting my course
irrevocably towards
your aching curve?
Rachel Westfall
November 22, 2011
.... in response to Christopher
4 comments:
How can I resist? It's gravity after all :D
Solar Fire
Even though I go
all the way to the sharp chill
of the farther ice
clouds where from time to
time I might fall free to draw
a singular streak,
even there I feel
the tug of your nuclear
song.
Your solar edge
gives the harmonic:
you wind the tonic drum beat
of my sloven soul.
November 22, 2011 12:42 PM
(((Christopher)))
I certainly noticed the "gravity" of your poem.
Delightful as always, Ms. Rachel!
Thank you, dear Bear!
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