harking back to an earlier poem of mine: poor wendy -- all the heroines get left behind. but she was a darling after all. yes, i very much have tears in my eyes. and it shall be hard to see, and sometimes i won't want to, but i will go on looking an...
i say you go read your book -- with a look like stained glass window pain, in the stonework of my pagan dream: i opened this book to read my reeds --
years ago and saw them just the same as a floundering limb in the lagoon, where i swam with my mouth breathing, reading love in all the loss -- loss in all of the love that there was : held out
like sunflower seeds in your hand squeezed -- palms and fingers forged but i wanted cherry trees -- i wanted cherries to tease and taste of home where my thumb drew red on the sky --
.go read your book -- i say -- i found solace in the winter solstice and a blue garden gleam: where i hung out roses to dry on the patio; the ivy that clung to the granite wall was all i could see -- all i read -- no more could undo me.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
