October 23, 2011
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The flare in her eye burns
Her anger penetrating her pupil
Her pauses, not for effect, but for fear
Needless to say, her lips: not likely
To tell her own story
But madding raves, outrage.
She identifies with the raven
Crouching on an idle branch
Awaiting her designated moment
To swoop down
And wait for her approaching chance.
Could this be her time
To fly down, grapple, and emerge,

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so_joy said...
Aug. 3, 2012 at 1:03 pm

I like this a lot. Very well written. Good topic. Job well done.

Please read, rate, and comment on my poems! Thanks!

TotheSea said...
Nov. 1, 2011 at 4:57 pm
Very very nice parallel between her and the bird.  I can really see the similarities.  Well done!
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