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Jan 23, 2024
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Blue Collar Woman
She crawls like the ghost
of the distorted spider dancer
to the bottom of the pyramid
as sand blown eyes watch over her.
She sniffs for what might be below
and knows her soft quilted bed hoping
to soon land on the lit-up blue, green and yellow
sunshine where lakes of mirror blue
bring her to dream of funny faced fish
and kitty cats blowing smoke rings.
She works her way deeper under
to where she drains from drainpipes into vapor
and solidifies finding herself with lizard tail wings
in a basket of light
safe and ready to crash
with her crash helm and armor
of cold black steel she is cold,
cold as ice soaring into her landing
awaiting the place she wants for,
where stars above a yellow sunset
call her passed forest covered cliffs
and paradise warm ocean mist …
she lands on a prism of clouds – liberated
About This Poem
Style/Type: Free verse
Review Request Direction: What did you think of my title?
Editing Stage: Editing - draft
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