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.


tonispencer said…
Wow. In the esrth stems, on the earth roses. So you express your love in an interesting way. Swans...odd birds.
One of my favorites. I love black swans.
Carrie Van Horn said…
You had me at 11 swans with one voice! Simply breathtaking!!
Maude Lynn 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 . . :)