Suffering trials, she trudges the slick ice slope <br />Stumbling against gravity’s pull, she might <br />Dress her wounds with impenetrable sadness <br />When she finds the fortress gates <br /> <br />Yellow sun washes the clouds crimson in dusk <br />A lone swan high in migratory channels, lost <br />Contrails leading home, or new beginnings <br />Stirs of life in desert dust <br /> <br />Might well leave our skins behind, probative of growth <br />Heave legacies in these snowy impressions <br />To be discovered. dissected. studied. <br />Bird bones, sandstone fossils; wreckage <br /> <br />What tempest possesses that she does not <br />Mastery of the heavens, the slope’s goal <br />Thrust-up in splendorous daggers, to God’s hand <br />The ice refracting crimson dusk<br /><br />Kelly Vinal<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/incarnate/
