This is a description of what it feels like to be manic.
The grass was the greenest
green that ever was
And the sky was the bluest
blue
I moved across the park
more animal than woman
I meant no harm, but the children
left their swings at my approach
Who was I at that moment?
With power pulsing to my fingertips?
With legs made of rainbows?
With the Serpent at my feet?
God, of course
I was God.
© 2007 Anne Westlund
Poetry by Anne Westlund
Read 618 times
Written on 2007-06-25 at 13:38
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The Ultimate High
The grass was the greenest
green that ever was
And the sky was the bluest
blue
I moved across the park
more animal than woman
I meant no harm, but the children
left their swings at my approach
Who was I at that moment?
With power pulsing to my fingertips?
With legs made of rainbows?
With the Serpent at my feet?
God, of course
I was God.
© 2007 Anne Westlund
Poetry by Anne Westlund
Read 618 times
Written on 2007-06-25 at 13:38
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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