christmas 18

on

29 days until Christmas Eve (again)

28 more sleeps till She is Home (again)

a month of turning, tides, solstice wintering again

She is a soft lovely beauty

i’m taken to her folly and her lands of delight and of dreaming

her left eye is the dreamiest

in the last it was the right

with Her i look East and to the Southerner lands and levees and water

for turtles, for blue fish in aqua waters warm, for Mexico

“Get your passport in case you need to escape,” is no joke

 

 

 

 

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