Over and over
I drag it up
and lay it down
only to pick it up again,
and here I am,
Laying my Isaac down
sounds so noble
but with coals glowing hot
on the altar,
my greedy fingers reach out
to snatch back
I convince myself of
with another lamb,
'cause this one is virtually unblemished
and strangely precious.
Somehow larger than life.
And although I know a
waits on the other side of the flames,
I choose to
for burnít fingers
and slightly charred
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Lesley-Anne this is stunning, we have all beenthere at some point. Thankyou so much for sharing this and for your recent comment.
WOW, i am sad to say i can relate. Verrrrrrrry well written.
Totally incredible - I favor unrhyming (prosaic?) poetry. Very well put - graphic images and my blistered fingers can relate oh, so well.