That When I Waked

the torn silk edges of the clouds
against
cottonblue skies
the field
trembling
with the windswept elizabethan
ruffs of yellowblushed daisies

a jaundiced sunset
hunched
against violet crush of encroaching tempest

fleshly canvas
stretched
over yellow-white marrowthreaded frame
of bone

such transient loveliness, and
all
so unbearably sad

it turns
heart to hollow
in the
coptic jar of my chest.

Photo Credit: florybrown Flickr via Compfight cc








Rachael Convery

Rachael Convery is a Classicist, Maker, and Scholar;
follower of Sappho and Anne Carson;
devotee of Beauty and the wildancient gods;
seeker of the sacred and profane;
lighter of candles upon the altars of the lost;
daughter of savagedivine wolves;
keeper of forgotten histories;
lover of small, grand, and delicate things…

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