 Susan Seddon Boulet "Seven Moons Rising" |
A Soft Indentation in my body where yours slept around me like the gold grass hollow deer leave in the morning meadow or the curve of a whale rib beached on the rocks I carried to admire along the path to my door A tenderness is yours I feel for the mountain which centers my life We are wary of old words used to describe these circles We awaken at dawn leave each other dreaming slip into the wild edge where reason fails your branches shelter mine flower ~Chrystos |
