Sunday, April 13, 2014

Raven-spring

While black-spruce gravely holds council,
a grayish crescent haunts the blue,
I'm gathering the thread of courage,
winding a fine, elusive skein.

Wild-flowers pressed between pages,
strange lyrics and music beckon.
My life, a cautionary tale,
a heart held in a vice, a song

for my sisters and the voiceless,
the unheard, unloved, un-caressed,
broken bodies marked by moon-runes,
Chinook wraps their longings in silk.



2 comments:

bluestorm said...

"a heart held in a vice" . . . such a powerful line!
wonderful piece all together.

Iulia Flame said...

Thank you.

when trees as gilded as bees

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