And How the Wings Are Softly Grown
Late afternoon sun pulses into room
as shadows begin to demand
their fair share mix
with beams darken them
The figure in the middle of room
softens her stance so that body
morphs into curves
Tops of tresses outer arms
tops of breasts ends of nipples
outer thighs feet streaked
with alchemy of shade and blaze--
all pinken with onset
Waving branches passing cars
spinning birds create squiggles
and squares and patches
of dark that lengthen
and drip down walls
alongside the gold
of passing day.
Wrestling umber and blonde smudges
creep from corners undulate up her back
there conspire and intertwine
to forge wings that flare
sizzle and smolder
Persian pink in the thick
Taunja Thomson’s poetry has most recently appeared in Peacock Journal and Half-Baked. Two of her poems have been nominated for Pushcart Awards: “Seahorse and Moon” in 2005 and “I Walked Out in January” in 2016. She has co-authored a chapbook of ekphrastic poetry that is due out in May of 2017 and has a writer’s page at HYPERLINK "https://www.facebook.com/TaunjaThomsonWriter" https://www.facebook.com/TaunjaThomsonWriter. A worshiper of nature, her summers are filled with water gardening, and her winters are spent obsessively feeding the birds and other wildlife that appear in her one-acre slice of heaven, a field.
3/29/2017 05:03:26 pm
A beautiful poem by a talented poet! The imagery is stunning.
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