Sunday, 15 July 2012

On Things Lost by Nadya Avila Chant

I must not dip my fingers
In the ashes of my sacrifice.
I must not gaze at summer skies
In search of balloons I let go
Long ago
Or beg the wind to return my whispers
As it often does my screams.


And neither must you linger at this dusty altar,
Singing dirges to your lamb,
For I am only borrowed carbon:
I too, am a gift to be returned.


Michael said...

I loved the way the reciprocating intent lies hidden within the context of the expression, like a subtle meaning in between the lines, the direct imagery that applies to life and outlook that shapes the future. Great work. I very much enjoyed reading, thanks.

Andrea McBride said...

Love it, Nadya!

Shauna said...

Sublime. The things that are not
ours to keep.