Poem of the Day--Tiers of Women


Another one from the vaults--ancient beyond reckoning. Okay, not that old, but old enough.

Tiers of Women
Steven Riddle

There is a churning
about everything she does.
A smoldering chaos
that folds
in tight coils in her wake.
The atmosphere is
charged by her
discharged by her
in slick
splits of light.
She doesn't know
where to go
or who to be

lets her soul
fly thread-bound
angel on its
silvery lead.
And wakes up
someone new
every day
forgetting the way
she used to be.

©2002 Steven Riddle

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This page contains a single entry by Steven Riddle published on September 30, 2002 5:25 PM.

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