Luca Menin

The Adapted - Poem by Luca Menin

In prickly bramble
of berries' roses
in dove's nest
of pitch and straws
with thorns like knives
cutting their way not painfully but gracefully.
I bleed.
My grief flows
through the soil deep
like a wound that heals
stretching my roots underground
flawed adapting,

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Comments about The Adapted by Luca Menin

  • Gold Star - 54,880 Points Gajanan Mishra (4/23/2013 3:04:00 AM)

    stretching my roots underground. good one. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, April 23, 2013

Poem Edited: Tuesday, April 23, 2013

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