katrina guarascio

 

 

Phoenix
 

Wings will once again open to sun.

 

The smug of soot

on forehead offers

the cleansing of fresh feathers,

burnt orange against blue eyes.

 

We are ready to ride onward,

watch the slouch

of Bethlehemís beast

and feel the curve of shoulders

as they hover

over the clouds of

yesterdayís thunderstorm.

 

The flash of lightning

struck us to dirt,

so let us flare,

like red bird,

let us track skies uncharted and

rip apart

dark formations             that blot out sky.

 

A second coming

hidden by the thick

of afternoon storm clouds,

casting shadows

on the tragedy of

yesterdays too clearly

remembered.

 

Let the innards leak,

release the flood and from the muck

watch creature birthed.

 

Let the past burn,

let it pierce,      cloud over,        rip open.

Molt skin of yesteryear

to prepare for spring.

 

Watch the carnage

a little a fire

can do,

and the revival

the rain can bring.

 

 

It is only from ash

that new wings can emerge.



Katrina K Guarascio is a writer and teacher living in Albuquerque, NM. As an active member of the poetry community, she has worked as an editor for various literary magazines and small presses, along with hosting bi-weekly poetry workshops and producing various poetry performances, including The Smokiní Slam, Rio Ranchoís only monthly Poetry Slam and Open Mic. Along with many small press and e-zine publications, she is the author of two chapbooks of poetry and two book length publication previously released through Casa De Snapdragon publishing entitled A Scattering of Imperfections and They donít make memories like that anymore...


 

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