Damascus Blade

points

She froze rock-hard to grow a spine,

A spur-spun steel stiletto –

The point is, she’d been out of line,

Her heart the merest echo.

Assumption said she’d never do,

The lies were knives she swallowed –

But once she changed her point of view,

A rugged backbone followed.

 

To Catch the Sun

To catch the sun, you lay a trap

of steel in dark of deadly night.

 Add some bait, perhaps a scrap

of lightning from a stormy flight;

as she mounts horizon’s hill,

the sun will spy allurement there,

cunningly, of her free will,

she’ll glow with joy and trip the snare.