I rode those cotton-candy clouds
so gently home to soul;
And those who traveled with me
flew beak-closed to the wound.
They laced my skin with sutures strong,
and some were blue-gray-brown.
When darkness hailed, we cut a path
through skies both tall and narrow:
Frail apart, now joined as one,
in wing, and bone, and marrow.
On December
3, 2012
Poem/Photos: Kay Weeks
2 comments:
Pretty.
Blessings
~
Beautiful, Kay. Your work continues to touch my heart and feed my soul. Thanks so much for sharing!
Blessings,
Susan
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