POETRY: FLY AWAY

©Mimi Wolske, January 2014

All Rights Reserved

Image

 

Perched high in her suicide tree,

Never kept in a gilded cage

As many would report later,

She felt like she’d been clawing glass.

 

Ragged tears floated down silken,

Desiccated threads of chestnut,

For it was a man who clipped her

gossamer dreams with dying love.

 

She held gypsy-red window tiebacks,

Looped at her nape and spider rolled,

That were the length of his torso

Lying in the ground beneath her.

 

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