Poet Chick

Poet Chick floats in clouds
hair streaming over cape,
gold lame dahling, tie-dyed bodysuit,
big soul eyes full of world, words,
hands cupped for writing.

Power of vision, satori power,
cosmic karmic comic sight,
able to twist tall phrases
to a single word, faster
than a speeding simile,
strong resolve, x-ray empathy.

Poet Chick flies to Earth,
crisis-bound, phrases flipping,
flopping through her veins
like a cauldren bubbling poem soup,
a melting pot of remembrance,
imagination salted with remorse,
yearning, peppered with expectation.

Words fall from her fingers,
scales from her eyes, yes,
maybe yours, too. You remember
the look in your mother's eyes
when she smiled, the taste
of fresh-plucked honeysuckle,
sipped from a bitten flower,
or your chin yellow
over the cast of a buttercup
on a near forgotten summer morning
when Sun played with the breeze
on your bare arms.