Tuesday, March 18, 2014


Though no nightingale dwells here,
dark's shell is cracked by bird's beak:

chickadee, chickee, chereek.
Snowblind and pale, moon lingers.

Time slants its scar from the wall; 
on youth's photo a smile floats.
A woman strums a guitar;
submerged song dissolves in air,

Coalesces, names her found,
beyond yesterday's stiff bonds:
known, kindled by inmost speech,
battling silent notes of bliss.

Kind words, to a battered soul
bring meat of fiercest poison,
weightier throes than burning.
Tears of joy convulse--combust.


bluestorm said...

there is this tenderness in your verses, that touches the soul, calms, transcends . . .

Iulia Flame said...

Thank you; if may they might be a burst of affection for anyone reading, this would bring me pleasure. xx

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