Within Her Eyes
Obliging black arms, their crooked
fingers cut freezing as they
reach for winter greys, blues of sky,
untouchable. Shaking, bending.
Mulish winds sweep lands- violence
loved, admired. They are framed
within my eyes green as last summer's
carpeting, where the trees were rooted.
Embroidered. Weaving native
life. Earth milled, the purest white
hush to lull. Charming. Dreamlike.
Persistent as memories.
Copyright © Jennifer Cahill | Year Posted 2013
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