How then
am I to mention the
process of molting without
elaborating my own desecration
without describing the evaporation
of my divine inner plumage
inside this stillwater
storm of sunshine
the truth of light banishes
my bright gleaming feathers
beneath the blaze of her warm summer rays
my decimated colors float away
ugly duckling in the paralyzed stream of my soul
hideously bland and un-whole
Bring on then the gnashing dullness of winter
the unforgiving freeze of hard hollow wind
let healing begin
heart hanging radiant against a desolate sky
wings waving goodbye
The seasons of life are like molting leaves of autumn. A beautiful write.
Thank you, Adagio! Thanks for reading!
xoxo
I love the opening stanza, girl
And there’s so many poetic lines.
Looks like someone who finally saw themselves.
Beautiful.
I love your insight. Thanks for checking this out!
I’ll never get the reply button thing right…
Always