deepundergroundpoetry.com

Antelope

.  
hearing the high pitch  
of a ceremonial flute  
chanting and chasing  

with the friction  
and rushing  
currents of spirit,  
 
how fast and far I run  
through tall plains grass  
waving,  
 
my long hair streaks  
across fields  
of antelope racing,  
 
released from the  
pain that grounds me,  
free in my flight,  
 
the wind whistling  
through hinged bones  
twisted and twisting,  
 
sweat lodge tears  
preclude  
when I might laugh again




The illness that won't let go of me...
 
.
Written by Jade-Pandora (jade tiger)
Published | Edited 12th Jan 2019
Author's Note
The illness that won't let go of me...
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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