Tuesday, June 8, 2010

poem

spirling winds
howling,
like gathering packs of wolves.
eyes blurry,
like falling.
the heart holds the weight of your lungs and chest.
free falling.
like a dragon's slang.
pit of burning fire.
open mouths,
tognue's talking
convincing the air
of parades of passing breath.

2 comments:

  1. I really love the opening three lines. Wonderful!You kinda lose me with "eyes blurry, like falling" and I don't quite understand the last line, but I like it.

    ReplyDelete
  2. well when you fall really fast.. your vision is blury. and parades of breath just really means... a lot of air coming together in a straight line... =)

    ReplyDelete