Last Ripple

In a coracle of interwoven nights,
the last of the thunderstorm
is curled up like a foetus,
spent.

The last of the thunderstorm
in an iridescent veil,
counting down on her prayer beads,

Is curled up like a foetus,
a star blinking in her solitary tear,
breath snagged in the shredded clouds,

Spent,
her purple rage peeling
from the walls of the unborn sky.

In Trimeric form- a four stanza poem in which the first stanza has four lines and the sequence of lines in the next three stanzas is abcd, b – -, c – -, d – -.
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45 thoughts on “Last Ripple

  1. You really ‘aced’ the trimeric form! I especially liked how the last line of the first stanza had only ONE word & how well it worked as the first line of the final stanza. Beautifully woven lines and wordings. I love ‘purple rage.’

    Liked by 1 person

  2. A beautiful piece, R. And though I’ve not always thought of writing in forms per se, when you use them I see the way they can amplify feelings… Do you have a favorite?

    Peace
    Michael

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  3. You wrote a very strong poem in its own right/write, regardless of form–hardly noticed the form secondary to the terrific wordsmithing. i, too, am amazed at how much mileage you got from “spent”. I love the elegance of the lines /a star blinking in her solitary tear/breath snagged in the shredded clouds/.

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  4. Milky way a fetus.. N0W
    Spiraling Alive iS It.. Now
    Swirling around like iT..
    Is US..

    Spiraling Alive is it.. Now
    Universe unto itself.. sAMe
    Patterns living throughOuT

    Swirling around like iT..
    Always moving.. dancing..
    SinGinG.. Sound from THAT..

    Is US
    JUST IS
    UniVerse WE..:)

    Like

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