Suffering trials, she trudges the slick ice slope
Stumbling against gravity’s pull, she might
Dress her wounds with impenetrable sadness
When she finds the fortress gates
Yellow sun washes the clouds crimson in dusk
A lone swan high in migratory channels, lost
Contrails leading home, or new beginnings
Stirs of life in desert dust
Might well leave our skins behind, probative of growth
Heave legacies in these snowy impressions
To be discovered. dissected. studied.
Bird bones, sandstone fossils; wreckage
What tempest possesses that she does not
Mastery of the heavens, the slope’s goal
Thrust-up in splendorous daggers, to God’s hand
The ice refracting crimson dusk
Kelly Vinal
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/incarnate/
