Monday, April 26, 2010

Old Woman, what do you do, alone in the woods each day?

Yesterday, a feathered throat of red, surrendered between my cupped palms.
It felt like trust.

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Today, Raven is a Girl and She's Singing Love Songs

We starved for the tenderness she found so difficult to share or accept.

Later, lavished in sporty affection and the gentle handling required by an elder, we watch as feminine preference glimmers past the toughened edge; legs coyly cross beneath the sheets; elegant tapering hands reaching, curious, communicative.

Encapsulate the tenderness she opened to, that her sons and daughters so gladly gave. Finish with a gulp; a simple rush through the crown. Feed this seasonal yen. It's cream colored in the mid-afternoon sun, moving toward moments of chartreuse and eggplant to peak with just a glimmer of rusty peach for tone, warmth and shape.

Stand open; belly, throat, nose and cap. And then, let go.
From The Blue Room