Martin A. Ramos

First Flight

Timid as a moth
my willing wings embrace
the hollow of her love;
dark on the sheet her face.

Inviolate sweep and pivot of wings,
careful the first ascent;
confidence in the gear unbent,
her perfume smell still clings.

Wake to her touch, a summit
which defies depth;
raised to new heights, a plummet
deeper than death.

In harbor, anchored like a lotus,
my ship of painted sail.
The lady bids adieu, farewell:
I hardly even notice.

Poem Submitted: Friday, January 6, 2006
Poem Edited: Friday, February 24, 2006

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Comments about First Flight by Martin A. Ramos

  • kskdnj sajn (1/31/2006 10:47:00 PM)

    An excellent poem of love in the moment. Really enjoyed, and skillfully written.

    Angie :)

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  • Miranda Coffey (1/8/2006 12:30:00 PM)

    this is utterly beautiful. i love it. ~miranda

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