Flash And Thunder
Flash and thunder can’t break the panes in
the hothouse I keep at heart's core
where you’re centered in my cells
moonflower on fire
where no careless-shut
door can let in
a flash of
as sure as
or flood waters drown
but who wouldn't plead for
quick burning over a soaked
sponge of lung or the long white death,
stiff in winter's numbing arms alone.
Posted for Fireblossom Friday at real toads
where her challenge is to write on a topic, er... embodied... by some aspect(s) of the physical body.
This is a more or less a nonet (or maybe two) a syllable counting form of nine lines, beginning with nine syllables and ending with one. I've arbitrarily introduced a second stanza and reversed the form, going from one syllable to nine.
Image: winter time, by micmol, on flick'r
Shared under a Creative Commons 2.0 Generic License