One hun'erd and fifty years ago, when I was young and gold, I danced in a blue and gilded desert.
I met a girl who was a flurry of scarlet and white. Like a cherry red bustle of camelias. Like a shine of pure gardenias. Like a polarised crimson shock of peonies.
My shins were snakeskin and dusty heeled. Smile toothed and eye-whites we were.
Spinning like cactus hummingbirds, or dervishes.
Never more polite.
Friday, 4 May 2007
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3 comments:
much better thanks :)
well, sort of...
hurts to laugh.
so what good is life?
without laughter?
then again, it's funny, to be laughed at when laughing in pain.
poor inc! haha!
i know a girl like this too.
and last night when i was running in the twilight thru the trees with a heavy orange moon straining to lift itself higher, i am sure i caught you watching, then dodge behind a trunk when i almost saw you??
tis five years today (tues) since little moth flew away. i had a stroll in the wildwood
;0)
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