Lost Fear by Kristina WoodhillI have lost my fear of flying.
You took me up, Pegasus,
and we rush with the wind
that rides the spring tide
of your hoof touching earth;
fresh water before the winter
freeze
fresh water before the cave
of bear
fresh water to cleanse the
fetid soul
before the long, long sleep,
though I cannot sleep in your
feathered pillow puff.
Your wings stroke,
and I am eyes ahead with your
newly quilled intentions. 11/07/2008
Author's Note: prompt: mythology
Posted on 11/07/2008 Copyright © 2024 Kristina Woodhill
Member Comments on this Poem |
Posted by George Hoerner on 11/07/08 at 07:54 PM Ah to fly with the winged horse, what a great trip you take us on. Nice wwrite lady. Today we have our own myths. One of which seems to be might makes right and the other is we can resolve any issue. |
Posted by Bruce W Niedt on 11/07/08 at 09:28 PM A nice ride indeed, with strong imagery. Well-done.... d:-) |
Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 11/11/08 at 07:22 PM Great ride into the lofty skies of literary cloudless morning blue. |
Posted by Anne Engelen on 11/12/08 at 12:42 PM Lovely read! |
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