Sunday, May 8, 2016

Joan Irene Charisse

She was lion hearted and
sword bearing
(raising up flowers to the
sky,
Painting wild orchids)

Nourishing the poet/artist
in me
Embracing the recklessness
and rage.

I soothed her pain with healing hands
When she looked at me she always
saw eagles wings,
and nothing else

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.