…
call her ish
{mael}, tired of waiting,de
-bating breath
and sigh
-lence.
call her boneless
courage, be
-friended skin, beginning
of sacred sky.
squall her a
storm, some salt
she might shed, a day
she might dread turned
to sunlight, shallow
shadow
of moon.
..
twiglets number 39.
Another fine gem, de. Esp love the sigh- pence
-E
Sent from my iPhone
This poem is fine. I think it is ultra fine. The sigh lence….oh my goodness that is so very good.
That last stanza is exceptional.
I loved that opening, De! So clever.
Fantastic – ‘squall her a boat’ – brilliant!
Sorry I meant ‘storm’ (dumb phone)
What’s not to love here?