candles in earth tell
ancient fables to tree roots
angels whisper “Grow”.
…
candles in earth tell
ancient fables to tree roots
angels whisper “Grow”.
…
my shadow’s fingers draw far into the corners that my hands can’t know. Antonia Sara Zenkevitch Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com Alt Text for the image above: a grey panelled room with low hanging light-shade and wooden chair near an empty hearth. There are indistinct disembodied shadows, including of splayed hands.
Hear this modern Eve,
where the apple slices sharp
the wax drowns new wicks
swallowing the knife of words
watch a candle cut to flame,
choaked, a blessing came
with an absence of honey;
uttered without tune
where weary throats broke quavers
on past moons, hope a sliver.
Antonia Sara Zenkevitch
serenely she sits
on my favourite plant pot
and relieves herself.
Antonia Sara Zenkevitch
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