Sunday, August 24, 2008

SUNDAY IS FOR POETRY: The Shooting Star


Last night I saw a shooting star.

She was the rolling stone wearing a
leopard-skin pill box hat;
Warhol's prop,
Dylan's teardrop.

Her fate sealed in her broken
lifeline;
She lived twenty eight years
in one and a half.

**written by petra michelle**

http://whoseroleisitanyway.blogspot.com/

14 comments:

Wordcrafter said...

This is beautiful and the illustartion too.

john.g. said...

Lovely, and the photo is a treat!

LarryG said...

That is a beautiful life!

Mama Zen said...

This is fabulous!

Mary Lou said...

Loved this!

Tammy said...

What a gorgeous picture and your poem is very visual. Wonderful!

Cátia said...

beautiful flower! great picture

pixlhead said...

hey petra
this is my favorite poem so far
its a little edgier than most
i really love this

so funny about needing to eat!
the arboretum was a nice oasis in wayne new jersey

thanks for always visiting
its nice

Chandini said...

Thanks for everything. I need them.

Because.

Blog Stalker said...

Great job again, and so I have an award for you on my blog. Come and claim it. http://ablogstalker.blogspot.com/2008/08/cool-beans.html

bulletholes said...

...10 million light years to the mouth of a graveyard...

White Rose said...

Loved this! Just the fact you know who Edie Sedgwick was, makes you okay in my book. :D

Marty said...

I hated the accusation intoned in Bob Dylan's "How Does it Feel" (althought I must admit the words of that poem are great). With that said I will conclude by telling you that the words of this poem are great too!

i beati said...

Thanks for the award it's up - and also this poem is maddeningly fabulouso