Treasure Island

Miroslava Odalovic


The Words Water-Rinsed Stood Glued To The Ground

and tasted nothing like rain and felt no sound - no sound

bewitched corners of remorse and shameful walls of fear
trembling in their degrees sharpening their angles
to the size of knives inscriptions to engrave
into bridgeless steps -ahead- there stood -angels
shielding the wingless earth from an unknown grave - I watched

faces baffled pensive apprehensive
hands that prompted a bottomless swift figures of ballerinas
lost in the moon dance around the orbs of circling penitent nights
eyes - riffled - now calm and comprehensive
getting paperless certificates of dust in laughing hyenas
feet -bi-directed/petrified - leaving no trace but still in lights

through the moonlit and full of shade oh so distant a goal
to breathe in the first life through a tiny air hole

Submitted: Friday, September 06, 2013
Edited: Monday, September 09, 2013

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