Her soul is arid
desert-dry and barren
crushed grains of sand
slipping between her fingers.
Desiccated and bereft of all that could have been,
hiding within herself
she cowers in the face of all that life has thrown at her.
Harsh winds have turned her into a husk
of her former, vibrant self.
She feels safer, protected behind these unscalable walls
but what price safety, if she is
A woman as an island,
separated from a succulent oasis
is no woman at all.
Here is a poem, inspired by the WordPress Daily Prompt, which today is ‘desert’. Why not have a go yourself? Poetry, short fiction, stream of consciousness – let your imagination run wild!
I wait for all the
thoughts to leave,
stripped, set me afloat once more,
to guide me anew.
For now, I
am overwhelmed here,
I need rescuing
from my thoughts.
They sting me, wasp-like,
as wolves hunting for their prey.
I must go to ground.
Here is my entry into Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie’s latest collage writing prompt, where we are invited to be inspired by the collage pictured above. Why not take part?
I also decided to write my response in the style of a Shadorma, which is a particular poetry form consisting of a six line stanza with the 3/5/3/3/7/5 syllable pattern. You can write as many stanzas as you like, as long as they use the same syllable pattern.
Thank you to Mindlovemisery for introducing me to this form, which I knew nothing about until I saw this page on her blog.
They say that full thickness burns are painless
though the epidermis never truly heals.
Tight scars engulf you –
if you’re lucky, you survive the onslaught.
Me, I look exactly as I was before,
so the immolation must have been minor,
or so others say.
Scratch beneath the surface
and you will reveal the echoes of what was said, or worse –
The air still hangs heavy between us,
leaden, oily, ready to ignite.
Oh, we had a spark alright
but left uncontrolled
with no firebreak between us
inflagration was inevitable.
To all, to all, but us.