I simply dance to its gypsy heart
Her silhouette, Brown mustard figure Against glowing amber oak. Laces and strings, Scarf and tassels; Looped and tied; Girded and saddled.
Where mirrors and circles intersect she see herself
If hope is to be pursued, one must listen to the tangled words of mystics, of children, of the witless.
Does the body weigh the mind? or the mind weigh the body?
Bathe myself in the still pool of Presence
A mad beast guards This song well. Behind fierce eyes, A soft melody Wafts through bars, A perfumed prison; A personal Elba . The glare
the story of a marriage
No position of respect on a shelf of treasures
the hounds broke through my window
Copyright ©2020 Wendy Sue Hunt. All rights reserved.