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Poetry

Reining in My Anger

A poem in prime-numbered lines

Sylvia Wohlfarth
Write Under the Moon
Jul 21, 2024

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An image of a wooden sculpture of a blackened torso with a head and wild eyes holding in its upraised hand a spherical moon and in its resting hand the earth. It is lying on sand and from its middle a tree is growing surrounded by flowers.
Image by Andy from Pixabay

I bent
and picked up
body pieces as I strode
across the scorched globe skipping over rubble
swiping drones like flies from my face and gluing body fragments
together with screams and tears, wet enough to hold the limbs in place;
and then exchanged arms for machine guns and hands for grenades
skulls for bombs to explode with precision
and wielding weaponry, I turned
inwards and faced
my anger.

I cannot resist the pull of a challenge especially when it goes like this:
2,3,5,7,11,13,11,7,5,3,2

Thank you , for the inspiration.

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Sylvia Wohlfarth
Sylvia Wohlfarth

Written by Sylvia Wohlfarth

An Irish-Nigerian soul living in Ireland after 40 years in Germany. A social anthropologist, English teacher, and more. With stories to share; and an opinion…

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