Light, Now
by Tina Barry
It's 100 degrees in your tower
and that braid you're so proud of
is one hot ladder to nowhere.
Why not lop it off?
Call to the crows,
“Listen. Take this thing.
It'll make a great nest.”
Let them have you, too.
That'll be your moment.
Your hands hot stars against
the inky carpet of their wings.
And you, so light,
bald as a baby bird.
and that braid you're so proud of
is one hot ladder to nowhere.
Why not lop it off?
Call to the crows,
“Listen. Take this thing.
It'll make a great nest.”
Let them have you, too.
That'll be your moment.
Your hands hot stars against
the inky carpet of their wings.
And you, so light,
bald as a baby bird.
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Author's Note
This is in the winter issue at Red Rose Review. Thanks editor, Larissa Nash, for including my poem!
Other stories by Tina Barry
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Sweet imagery.
I like this much better than Rumpel... whatever -- I can never remember. *
"It'll make a great nest."
Funny.
Sweet and something better than sweet. I like this little trip very much!
Thanks Gloria, Matthew, Steven and Carol for the kind words and stars!
*like*
Lxx
Gorgeous new angle. *
Thanks Letitia and Beate!
"Your hands hot stars against
the inky carpet of their wings.
And you, so light,
bald as a baby bird."
Amazing lines. Good poem, Tina. *
Thanks for the kind words, Sam, and thanks for the star!
"your hands hot stars"
that set me back, wonderful work. Like "david" losing his hair, same effect, only self inflicted. Excellent poem.
*
Thanks, Bud. I like your interpretation.