Alien

March 13, 2014

My eyes embrace the dimness of dawn slowly,

but my heart, that damn organ, pounds so loud with excitement,

I am not too late.

Oh, how I love these moments before the world is awake!

I am meant to be dormant, but I cannot help it,

this is just too- crunch!

Footsteps?

There's a girl.

But what is she doing here?

And why must their kind be so loud?

She hops as to avoid the snow and the not yet decomposed branches,

and oh, how fortunate she finds me.

Her eyes examine me as if I am the first she has ever seen;

those small fingers trace every groove in my skin.

She embraces me.

Her focus shifts then to my brothers and sisters across the pond,

the frozen pond; and I continue to look at her.

I have never seen one so quiet or so still.

She stays a while and so I welcome her.

Something wrong with this poem?

Replies are closed for this poem.

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.