Treed . . . Freed
by Sandra S Corona
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Pinkish purple swirls, ebbing, finger thru grey;
not a rose-colored morning to welcome day.
I stand in dank, ebony shadows,
trees creep--shhh--intertwining around me.
How can that be
trees ... freed?
Their density devours me completely.
My bark's a hack
I want ... free.
Brackish, brown water slurps me in its' jaws,
choking in putrid air swirling ... just because
feelings in me are so camouflaged.
A forest of foliage laces the cobalt sky;
Walking, ooze rippling from their roots, dang all laws!
In savoring sap,
as fiery scarlet flames cannibalize skies--
feeding on raw anger--as I cannot cry.
Emotions release me, sorrows take flight.
Scarlet ashes smolder, turn amber and then fly.
Treed ... I'm freed;
my heart a light.
'Neath emerald wispy canopy, I sigh;
once treed ... freed.
When bound, finally, my ashes shall lay, rest,
in foliage of a forest 'neath cobalt skies.
Review by Jeff Mason:
Is it ok for me to say *WOW* ?!
When you refine something, it certainly is the epitome of refinement!
I wanna be a tree!! :)