Untitled

I saw its mica-shine
tossing the sun
just for a moment,
an old friend come to play.
This marionette of what-ifs,
spinning a disjointed dance
to a sad siren song.
It's tattered slippers -
once beautiful things -
now smell of old earth.

I wanted to believe.

Magic is but slight-of-hand,
so the awe of it is stained.
And here too,
the beauty of something
once held dear
was now marred.
But even then, as it leapt away-
its back leg caught at an impossible angle-
I reflexively caught a single strand
and with it, beat my breast in supplication.

I tried to hold on;
the loose thread caged in my fist.
Willing myself to believe -
but it never stays.
Instead, it unraveled -


I had undone it all.

Reviews

[Zugzwang]

I know the feeling.

This is an interesting departure for you, I don't think I've seen you do open verse before.
I like it.

Great metaphor, works well with the subject matter.
Z

[Gaia Octavia]

Thanks ☺
There is something about not rhyming that really throws me off so this is indeed a departure. Thank you for your kind reviews. I look forward to your new work. I bet your course will coax some gems out!