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Iceflower

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Ice in the wind this storm black night

Stings me awake

To walk the sodden way again.

Again this ex-communication

No black candles, no witches’ curses,

No lifting of the gloom

Just shivering in a room.

Imagining an iceflower

Shimmering in the heat

Of a living body

This genesis of the heart

Tells me

‘we are not who we think we are’

 A phoenix made in time - 

Of water, bread and wine. 

 

◄ Princess

Angels Without Wings ►

Comments

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John Marks

Fri 31st Aug 2018 21:06

Thank you Taylor. I've been working on this poem since 2012. Work-in-progress. John

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Taylor Crowshaw

Fri 31st Aug 2018 18:29

The imagery is stunning. Beautiful..?

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