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Wednesday, June 15, 2016


The Sunflower Gustav Klimt

Posting an old poem of mine tonight that was published in Crannog 20. I saw a gorgeous image on Deviantart but course it must be copyrighted,  I settled on Klimt. I'm all about the yellow tonight for some reason.



Days now I have looked

for my love a god in the sky

to feel the warmth

of divine nourishment.


My foot is always to the ground,

roots and tendrils cling

to my toes and wrap

their fingers around my ankle.


The wind of March is unkind,

Bears winter’s melted snow.

Ancestors go with Pluto,

retreat to their season.


The sun calls to the living.

I am the featureless face

of the stone; flat, smooth, clean.

I remember times.


To the ear of the wolf

is the call of the wild.

In the eclipsed moon

there is turmoil of birth.


Drinking earth’s blood

I am changed and continually



In my consciousness

the dream calls

and I am a flower maiden.

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