The wind will shift from south to north again
as the earth tilts her way along the year
and my breath will enter the tapestry
as I weave my own way along, in time.
Tag Archives: blank verse
Wonderspaces
In the next room, a galaxy strung up
becomes an immigrant face at distance,
but only at a certain distance, seen
from a specific vantage point, well marked.
Stand here if you would behold my visage;
from every other point of view, I am
a mess.
The Poetry Patio 