Swans & Roses

Eleven swans with one
voice brought a warning,
delivered in a dream.

"Your love is sick,
dying. Her bones are 
stems. Her hair, thorns."

Each swan carried a
bloom. I followed, eleven
miles. Behold, my love:

In the earth, stems.
On the earth, roses.
_______

A quadrille for Wednesday Muse.

Comments

tonispencer said…
Wow. In the esrth stems, on the earth roses. So you express your love in an interesting way. Swans...odd birds.
said…
One of my favorites. I love black swans.
Carrie Van Horn said…
You had me at 11 swans with one voice! Simply breathtaking!!
Mama Zen said…
Spare, haunting piece. I really like it.
Sherry Blue Sky said…
Even your DREAMS are to die for. This is gorgeous!
hedgewitch said…
When a poem opens the door to a dream, it should do it just like this. Everything remains bizarre and unexplained as it should, yet the heart feels a resonance and meaning. A lovely, perhaps even perfect, quadrille.
C. Sandlin said…
This is amazing. I can feel the magic simmering in this.
A beautiful recollection of what was. Lovely!
This seems oddly eerie, yet lovely. Black swans are beautiful.
Vicki said…
Remarkable write! Love it.
Fabulous, Shay . . :)

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