Wind rising in the alleys
My spirit lifts in you
like a banner streaming free of hot walls.
You are full of unspent
dreams....
You are laden with
beginnings....
There is hope in you...
not sweet... acrid as blood in the mouth.
Scattering the peace of
old deaths,
Wind rising in the
alleys,
Carrying stuff of
flame.
Lola Ridge
(Picture: In the dust cloud, Jacek Malczewski)
No comments:
Post a Comment