Sherry Asbury Poems

The angels flit about, holy gnats waiting
for me to lay down my sword and admit defeat.
Lovely are their songs, their wings whisper in my ear.
...

Some sorrows strip of us of our very flesh,
corrosive hatred rakes away sinews, tendons
and that covering of many colors...
One mistake undid me
...

Magnolia-honey air, heavy with heat.
Kudzu vines twining, knitting the city.
Spanish moss masks the old hoyden,
and she manages to think herself pretty.
...

Belle of the ball, darling of every man’s eye,
I floated ‘neath my emerald gown gracefully
So many pretty men held out their hand to me
Spurning them coquettishly, I batted eyelashes
...

Wings and Things

Mind askew.
Droplets of blood that I rub into my soul
...