". . . traces like lightning strikes . . ." by Kaitlyn Kraybill-Voth, Denver School of the Arts, Class of 2013 (Originally published in Volume Two: The Place Where Poetry Begins)
Let us sever these chains
of silent indifference. Let it deteriorate like un kept vows slippery on our tongues, like the ghosts of ancient butterflies rusting prose, breaking in un defiant grace. Acceptance grows closer to us in the darkness.
Poetry in the rough of childhood holds truths of forgotten innocence, rare purity lost in the chaos of the broken shrapnel of our clouded hearts.
See, through a child’s eyes, the language of unpolluted beauty and guiltless radiance. For in the youthful poetry are traces like lightning strikes It is they who will hold this broken world in their fingers, like pencils.
by Kaitlyn Kraybill-Voth, Denver School of the Arts, Class of 2013
(Originally published in Volume Two: The Place Where Poetry Begins)
Let us sever these chains
of silent indifference.
Let it deteriorate
like un kept vows
slippery on our tongues,
like the ghosts of ancient butterflies
rusting prose,
breaking in un defiant grace.
Acceptance grows closer to us in the darkness.
Poetry in the rough of childhood
holds truths
of forgotten innocence,
rare purity
lost
in the chaos
of the broken shrapnel
of our clouded hearts.
See, through a child’s eyes,
the language of unpolluted beauty
and guiltless radiance.
For in the youthful poetry
are traces
like lightning strikes
It is they
who will hold this broken world
in their fingers,
like pencils.
It is written.