North of This  

This poem has slid
just a little too far
south. She’s got a
mouth on her, but
not enough to say.

Point her true
……………..{north}
,
and she’ll tell you
a thing or two about
the weight of water,
the slant of sky.

Sigh at her, maybe;
she’ll sing you a tune
cobbled together of
dragon scales and rose
-mary breeze. She’ll
ask the trees to spill
their secrets, pine only
for her. She’ll purr. She’ll
stir herself sane.

She’ll do the things she
………….knows to do
until the needle once
again points
……her true.
..
Poetic Asides November Chapbook Challenge, day 27

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1 Response to North of This  

  1. Laura Bloomsbury says:

    – so glad she slipped south so I could hear her words:
    “she’ll
    ask the trees to spill
    their secrets, pine only
    for her”

Use your words.

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