Phoenix Drops Down

Share this...

Phoenix drops down from her silver perch
to gaze into my inner eye
when dawn brings her
in a flood of liquid rose.

She stands beside me, restless, waiting.
Sees my rage, my utter disappointment.
I immolate under her vastly approving gaze.

She slides the shaft of her brightest golden feather deep
into my heart where
my tears burn.
Are they apt fuel for a holy fire?
And after the burning? What then?

Every once in a while
it seems that
fresh water is released from some
forgotten inner well
and my tears renew.

She weeps with me then.
Rivulets braid their way down the mountains.
Inscrutable, Phoenix bows her head.

Darlene Witte
Darlene Witte

Professor of Education, (retired) at Johnson State College in Vermont leads the Green Mountain Writers' Poetry & Performance workshop that meets on Zoom each month on the 1st and 3rd Tuesdays at 7 PM ET. Find out more at

Articles: 63

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *