Twelve Prongs

Spear lodged in the sea
Knife that splits the apple
Pin that pricks me, and spills out a dream
Dagger that sparks the stone
Stake that holds
Spike that reaches out to strike me
Arrowhead made of bone
Twig carefully making way
Sword swiping the sky
Mountain peak
Tine on my fork
Javelin I’m clutching to my breast
This hart, beats silently
Four hooves rustling the wilderness.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s