Bridget Bush

Rookie (12/08/1982 / Pittsfield, Il)

Night Of Sentencing - Poem by Bridget Bush

The crinkly sound of forest floor
spread open like a staring eye
wind whispering words of wisdom to my dirty feet
wrapping its stealth hands around my body
clouds dancing across the crescent moon
leaving behind trails of stardust and darkness
remnants of the dirt's feces brown tracing its path across my jeans
while a springing witch is ringing her tantalizing shadow
across the soul of a little boy blue napping in the hay
her whispers being caught by the wind
throwing them in my direction
the hands of the scent of the dewy grass
wafting towards the boy caressing his face
floating to the tree's opening
tender lips find my quivering mouth
tongues searching for each other
in a short game of hide and go seek
as a motor turns over with a switch of charges
causing the night of sentencing to become delayed once again
as the springing witch devours the attention
of tongues, minds, and souls
making the perfect kiss race for freedom
in the confinements of gray wheels
rolling to the silence of courage
in the heart of love blooming to a gloomy sentence of stuffy dust

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, June 12, 2005

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