Who Goes Into
There is a woman living veiled in the shadows of a strangely moving woodWhere notes of Light quicksilver as the days depart to who knows where,
Her human heart is like a piano that plays with words like dreams of rain
Her soul is like an hourglass filled with spider shaped sands down to the grain,
Once I visited her upon a windswept plain deep in evenings forever gone
Like an avatar in some ancient script kissed her lips, violet crimson
Wild and Sweet
Lost myself within her palm as Heavens waters came to call
"See you again my friend after all this sound has passed," she said.
For all I know she spoke what is true, as she was leaving me to go into . . .
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
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Written on 2019-06-24 at 16:51
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