Sunday, October 2, 2011


and so the palest breath of feathers
blows across the field at last.
that sigh as gentle as a baby's kiss,
winding, weaving thru your dreams.
tears that trace the purest path
salt-joy down a woman's smiling face.
poppy-follow forget-me-nots
that float and flow, ophelia's lake.
the exquisite lightness of a needle tip,
sweet water drop that punctures pink,
silk veils arrive with angels, yes
and sigh, and soothe it all away.