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Wilting Willows
November 13, 2013
I am etched with iron,
Solid droplets thudding
With the bitter after taste of metallic chains.
My ribs are the cage
To a wanton heart
With flowering vines to snake
Through the ivory bars of a prison cell.
My bones are as old as the dinosaurs themselves,
Swollen marrow wilting beneath faltering pigment.
My skin feathers
As wilting sunflowers fall
When their lover
(The sun)
Has long gone.
© Carlos C., Glendale, AZ
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