Wake
You creature of stretched hide and
Scorched rope, unhinge your jaw,
Let me bellow inside of you.
I am the Great Wind come to
Shake your leafless limbs and
Carry your echo to the mountainside,
For you are made of drums that
Thunder blood, rhythms that birthed stars,
Your battered hollows I will expand until
You can swallow an orchestra.
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©2017 Scarlett Sinclair. Designed by Black/Ash Consulting.
A Poet Begins
Hello, dear friends, and welcome to my Writer’s Room.
In this space, I will endeavor to share largely unedited and off the cuff poems, thought fragments, and contemplations with you.
Everything you read herein is my original work.
If you had desired to see a bit of my art and share some private thoughts, this is my answer to your queries.
Please enjoy the journey.
Our synapses branch between us
Like strings on a harp
That strum and create color notes
In our soft tissue
And that is how
For you, my love,
I become your masterpiece.
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Want to stay in touch? Sign up for my mailing list!
©2017 Scarlett Sinclair. Designed by Black/Ash Consulting.