Looking Through Stained Glass

Phoenix

Like a phoenix to a flame he comes



Swearing up a blue streak

The grain of his outer staff

Perfectly matching my inner sculpture

I weather the frothy current

Of milkshake tinkling down the esophageal path

In a flight of carnal – carnival - carnivore joy

The apparition of the newly dead bird laid to rest


But then the phoenix rises
 

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raivenne@theraivenne.com

© 2005 Raivenne (All rights reserved)

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