She is
my phoenix,
rising from the ashes
of the old year,
a past life,
a neglected child. She
is a new shoot,
peeking over the snow just before spring's thaw
at a white fresh world,
a second chance
a perfect start,
a blameless mask on the past. She
is a wall
built from trees rough and old,
now made new
with varnish, and sand.
Built
to shield me from yesterday. She
is the dawn,
rosy-cheeked and soft,
a rebirth of
innocence and perfection;
a renewal of
myself.
Gender:
Points: 900
Reviews: 268