Monday, October 18, 2010


everything, spells, cries
of the sybil she was
in her first life....
Shirley Kaufman

The wind turns brisk
and a match-flicker of sun
lights three crows perched
on a Joshua tree.

Their dark shine
offsets a pale woman
who wanders the field
gathering wild shrub blossoms.

Sage, burgundy
and lavender are bundled
with vine. She will crush
the plants into pigment
for dyeing wool -- and

at the same time, crumple
her secrets into dust
which the birds may sense
as smoke rising
in the thick of Autumn,

from a woman oracled
in her own guilt. The Season
tells her to let go, expose her loom
to softer colors.
Note-- The beautiful illustration is called "The Wind" by Victorian artist, Emma Florence Harrison.

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