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Friday, May 13, 2011


Let the passion of your wings fill your lungs. Tracy Greenlee

"Someday, somewhere - anywhere, unfailingly, you'll find yourself, and that, and only that, can be the happiest or bitterest hour of your life"
— Pablo Neruda

On the Way

I cannot stop
the magnolia heat of
a Carolina morning; I
thirst for salt the sun craves--
your white velvet flower
opens for me, giving me
a droplet of sweet dew
leaving me with
aromatic honey that
fills the warm air.

I hear a fountain and
turn to see water
spraying over a statue
of violet bare breast,
crystalline confetti falling
onto a steamy afternoon,
my mysterious night lies
in the fate of the
coming dark.

I run into the
shade of your
sultry mountains,
the curving wet earth
filled with a cool
seduction underfoot,
tree bark touches
bare back leaving scratches
of crimson and love.

The wild play of shadows
palpates my pounding breath,
a landscape of you,
a time with secrets,
a glimmer of connection
allows me to continue
touching the tiny unashamed
flowers growing.

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