llll
Through the seventh pane of nine
She is flame and ivory willow,
Among the shortened days
Of smaller friends,
Crowned now, in Timothy.
She divines,
With rods of lavender,
It seems,
A waltz,
Beneath thirty and three hundred chestnut rings.
Bare steps
Over urchin husks,
Needling,
Witching the swell,
That pearls
Between knuckles and knees.
SC July ‘09
Thursday, July 8, 2010
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You truly are a poet, Steven! Keep it up :)
ReplyDeleteuh, huh? I can't connect it to anything I know.
ReplyDeleteThink 7 of 9 from Star Trek Voyager. ;)
ReplyDelete