Does the wood pigeon know?

when he calls his coo into the night

the cats who stalk will slink toward

the smell of blood and feathers

as I have gathered myself into quills

and spices sealed in alabaster jar

the sum of me is traveled

through moon and sun

like a cut orange leaves her

stain on wood, sticky and bitter

as your imprint has become

my mandala and the furtherance of us

defies life and death

shaking itself off like a dog released from bath

will hurtle, maddened, toward nearest escape

I grew my vines in your wood

my embers are your fire

this melange of you and I

twined like grapes gathering sunlight

before first frost

and the women take in the clothes, hanging on frozen line

even as they capture the day’s warmth

you stretch in this paper thin life time

sew the jagged edges of my need

with your ivory needle

as if we were part of the same


held up



force of


13 Replies to “Will”

  1. Definitely – was it your last post? I will go now and read. Sorry for not doing so before, I have been pretty sick again and just not online too much. TY for letting me know xo

  2. Is is the everybody belongs to themselves and God poem? I think if it is that you need to submit this to the WE WILL NOT BE SILENCED (2) Anthology – it’s superb. Was that the one you meant? TY for letting me know. I would have hated to have missed that.

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