I do not remember where we are

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I do not remember where we are

Scattered like leaves
that still hold their autumn colors,
I gather you up and bind our stems;
wear your wreath like a crown.

Is there anything better
than a poet, my lover?

Answers weave a yarn
that binds us while we sleep.
In the morning, twisted braids
of spring weathered words
bud and blossom around our ankles.

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8 Comments
normal jeannormal jeanalmost 19 years ago
lovely imagery

braided, weathered words. a clear, and haunting image, yet one with hope. glad to see you back posting, seattle-rain, ive missed your elusive, erotic self :)

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 19 years ago
There is not!

this is wonderful, SR! Such beautiful play with its own solution. I am not bothered by the wreath/crown image.

Fly

Wanton VixxxenWanton Vixxxenalmost 19 years ago
In answer to your question...

NO - there is nothing better than a poet because a poet is love sensitive and you can't beat that! A lovely poem that only proves My point. <smile>

Vixxx

dcpoet44dcpoet44almost 19 years ago
nice images....

and i have fallen victim to these two lines as they are sooooo wonderful:

Is there anything better

than a poet, my lover?

*****

nice job!!........don

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 19 years ago
~

Nice work here.. very visual and enticing in the lace of a dream..or is that reality?...

ty

du~

mentioned in the sunday reviews..

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