young frozen saplings have no seed
or blooms that mirror the moon
can a flame consume something so virginal
can the canopy of your embrace clothe these naked wounds
or the absence of wet kisses hydrate an Egyptian Lotus
and we, like crows drenched in morning dew
spread our wings over the dead, defending our dowry
By Serena Wilcox
Serena Wilcox writes from the edge of Atlanta, GA. She is the poetry editor for Leaf Garden Press. She has literary work published and/or forthcoming in: Ann Arbor Review, BlazeVox, Word Riot, Calliope Nerve, Word for Word, Moon Milk Review, and many other publications. She was recently nominated for Dancz Best of the Web. You can find out more about Serena at www.serenatome.blogspot.com.
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