Victoria C. Slotto, Author

It seemed to whisper,


Everything that had been a part of her.
Everything bound up
in her deepest roots.


Fear fell away, congealed.
Fear, frozen, oddly gentle,
like a baby rabbit in a trap.


The air, thick with feathers,
floated softly down.
Suddenly stilled.


This is an erasure poem, written as a response to Anna Montgomery’s prompt over at dVerse Form for All. You’ll enjoy learning all about this form and reading what other poets have created. I chose Mitchell’s Gone with the Wind opened to a page at random. The scene in play is that which occurs when the Union invades and sets fire to Tara. I first read this classic as a teen and again about twenty years ago.

The pub opens a 1500 EST…come on over.

Thank you, Anna.

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