Saturday, October 12, 2013

Four Lines for Elaine Susan's Fifty-ninth Birthday

"Write me a poem for my birthday."--Elaine Susan

The smell of your hair closes your eyes
and passes a hush through the gold beads of air
. . . so sleep is a way to count the mustangs
and more akin to wild, wet love than rain.

28-29 September 2013

copyright 2013 by Floyce Alexander

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