of my mother from the grave.
Interred within a frozen tomb, enraged.
Suffocating 'neath the weight of world.
Imagining the warmth of growth - a rose.
Opening by powers of the sun.
Believing that she is the only one.
Sinking deeper into sleep.
Where demons roar and angels weep.
In echoes of another long lost grave...
? Michaelette ?
Copyright© 2005 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .