Undeserving - A Poem
#5 of Scrapbook
New story next week. Here's a poem for the now.
Hold closed the eyes
Feel the wet crease
Feel the new warmth
Feel all too much
Yet nothing remarkable
Not worth reliving
Deserve nothing
But accept the gift
Clutching back
Shiver and yearn
Remember, remember
And wipe clean
Fly over grass
Or step the path
Gently unashamed
A phoenix undeserving
The feathers are damp
The bones are hollow