As boss is friend, she truly delights, in  shards of raven hair./her hands glued together,/like jewels promised ./A small voice  repeats at dusk,/meditating over loss;/ the spirit forms a flower/ twining with my image.  Other parts remain,/in silent deceit,/April’s hill applauded, oncoming, / a warrant under bright lights,/ I give the parts of dunes that shock me./She never fails her flock,with quaint offers,/in control, full tilt ,/she shows up as a trooper/ somewhere in this desert

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s