October 13, 2011
Her words always first
With her eyes, teeth, talent

Beaming blooming bright
She spun gold to weave;
Blanket her accomplishments
Under feathery shadow
Pet pheasant at home
During the hunt.
Coddled and patted and praised
She effortlessly accepts,
framing her trophies.
I spoke to her once

Creases lightened with gold;

Eyes narrow and bright
And she had laughed,
And I had loved her,

But I still can’t recall what she said.

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback