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

The mountains held up the sky like pillars, releasing plumes of pebbles, streams and silt as far as my girlish eyes could follow, and w...

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