30.4.10

Poem 61

The woman sits at a café
Sun shadows her past 
even in this chair.
For a week of escape
she prefers clouds
crying skies
names of streets with
no connections
another language .
In her hands are lines &
in her notebook
blank pages.

The woman sits in a café
Aware of planet’s rotation
Cycles of change
Lunar   linear   lost
In the constant spin
She twirls her ring   
Past centre of gravity
She has escaped
Tumbling head over…
Heal with time
Mind over matter
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1 comment:

Meri Weiss said...

I love this. Like Part II also but especially this one.

May 7, 2010 at 9:45 AM

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