Conversion Poem by Jacqui Thewless
Conversion
My old head melts
on a rose-red bloodstream:
Where have you been for so long? says the Flame.
Let me dissolve those antique eyes;
I’ll have no more
peering at the banks,
fussing about their slow collapse as though
land-life was yours.
Talk to me
and I will answer:
You must become all wax
and I, the constant
change of heart, will hear.
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4/26/2024 10:23:49 PM # 1.0.0.1119
I agree. This is lovely. I keep reading and re-reading it.