Presents spring from tree rootsas gifts carved from stars.
Eyes are blind to baskets of bliss,
too clouded by the screenof backstabbing and betrayal
to appreciate surprises built of brown.
Arms that support them never tireor groan from winter's shake.
Wings of fire sculpt hearths,
insulating jewels of blood,the new stars destined
to populate air's canvas.
They are intangible pillowsfor hearts with dour prospects,
soiled gems for workhorses
during life's daily commute,gracing them with reasons
to believe in hope and liberation.
Lisa Pellegrini resides in Warrington, PA. Her poetry has appeared in Zouch Magazine, Downer Magazine, Dark Matter, The Rainbow Rose, and Misfits' Miscellany. She has forthcoming work that will appear in Bolts of Silk, Eunoia Review, The Rusty Nail, L'Allure des Mots, The Lascaux Review, and The Alarmist.