Into a phantom sleep,
the icy dark blooms in phantasy
and it carried away to the sojourns of the past,
the mirage of a displaced winter;
In remembrance, each carved wind silences you,
piercing scattered sleep in the warmth
of the cedar tree's blood-fall from its leaves
teeming a light that hides from your eyes,
and you drift... You drift like the wind
fluttering into the river, into a gradual descent
of the desert mirage, the winter enslaved
as it stood.
© 2020 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.
16 responses to “Mirage.”
Tastes like one of your poems written in what I have called your “classical style” – a little gothic, a little fantasy, reaching into the heights of nature to grasp some vivid imagery that you then drape in a filmy veil of dreams. I really enjoy the seasonal tapestry you’ve woven here – very elegant.
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Thank you so much!
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Yet another lovely piece with amazing imagery. Your words have yet to fail!
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Thank you! ❤
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Beautiful images. I loved “icy dark blooms in phantasy” and “the cedar tree’s blood-fall” especially. The repetition of “drift” also struck a chord with me as well!
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Aww, thank you so much.
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Wow, that’s powerful, Lucy. You conjure wondrous images through your words. I love it.
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Thank you so much and I am really happy to hear that.
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You’re most welcome. Always.
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I can’t pick a favourite line…you bring alive each image so cogently with your words. ❤️
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Thank you, Punam. 😊
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My pleasure. 😊
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labor s sweet
i used to tweet
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A bird cuts off its wings painting itself red;
no more tweet for tweet
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“the winter enslaved as it stood” is a beautiful and chilling ending to this marvelous picture of what springs into being from our consciousness!
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Thank you, Jaya!
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