dust of seemed swallow secured on grey slate

risen dessication its fate

forever entranced, disabled by time

flightless now ever in state

dust of arced angel arrested alone

ached by stillness in stone

nary the one nor other may move

struck in time, brief and long gone

impressions imprinted, immobilised

impossible gifts to new eyes

cast by creation then clefted to wait

separated from life ‘mid soft sighs


7 thoughts on “Arrested”

  1. I like this. Each time that I have read it I seem to get a slightly different perspective. To me this speaks of a stalemate, both personally and in terms of our world and, indeed, nature. Are we at a cross-roads? Is there some force, or forces, battling over our destiny? A fascinating poem, Anne-Marie. Great use of alliteration, by the way!

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    1. Thanks, Chris. I love where your thoughts have gone with this. I was very much thinking of the impermanent nature of all life, the relics left behind in fossils, in statues, in a sort of frozen legacy. Are we bound by the same things, incapable of movement and change? On the same page here, I think. 🙂

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    1. I like that poetry can do that. 🙂 Believe it or not, it started off because I found a dead moth I think it must have been, its exact shape in a little pile of dusty remains, but it lookd like a swallow. From there, that got me thinking of fossils and statues and time being frozen. Then my mind just went places I can’t explain! Off on all sorts of tangents. I’m glad you liked it, Mark. Always good to be thinking. 🙂

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