written by: Carmen Frech Oliveri
There is a trance in which words thrive.
Fear not, dear writer.
but a whimsical hive,
There is solace in rage,
driving the mad
to the bowels of the mind.
Oh fortunate cage!
Who sees you
in your prowls?
“My soul was a naked bird, over the trees, it smiled in silence.”
I am happy to rejoin the world of poetry, after so many years of silence. We all know that a little bit of ourselves lives and breathes in every single written word. Thank you kindly for reading.
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