Dipping My Hair Into the Blue
We are at the junction of the Little River and the Ottawa River,
journeying into the Canadian wilderness by canoe, the
paddles stroke slowly into the water, paddles heavily incised
with vines and flowers, and I am dipping my hair into the deep blue.
Spirit, is a native man in a crisp white shirt, his head shaved
but for one braid with feathers, his blue leggings enthrall
me, intricate beaded moccasins are sublime, his leather
pouch and glass jewelry lovely, I think I love him.
Falcon, a beautiful man with raven hair falling down his back,
his feathers are fluttering in the wind, he has dangling earrings,
a red cape edged with gold threads, his beads are exquisite,
and he is telling me stories and smiling at me, I could love him.
And I am dipping my hair into the deep blue
in this dream _
____________________________
March 6, 2020
Poetry/Imagism/Dipping My Hair Into The Blue
Copyright Protected, ID 20-1233-568-03
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France
Submitted to Strand Choice C contest
sponsor, Brian Strand
Honorable Mention
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2020
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