Crystals gleam before the eyes
midnight vision or dawn of sleep
she wakes before the others
putting hands on hard stone walls
she walks beyond the last erasures
fifty meters past a wrong situation
there again by the rubbing of the flame
not surprised the picture looks the same
draws cave, mastodon & antlered creatures
they call her simple, they say she's crazy
which hardly concerns her principles
toting a sack with all the colours she needs.
fifty meters past a wrong situation
there again by the rubbing of the flame
not surprised the picture looks the same
draws cave, mastodon & antlered creatures
they call her simple, they say she's crazy
which hardly concerns her principles
toting a sack with all the colours she needs.
It took me there, wonderful poem, Rob
ReplyDeleteCheers, Sarah. Originally in couplets, but I thought it made the poem too 'choppy' - so I'm glad that this form isn't too dense, and you were taken with it. :)
Deleteyes, wonderful, Rob
ReplyDelete