prophecy slipped through

 

wyeth wind from the sea draft

prophecy slipped through
open windows…born on a
west-wind  fragrance of pale
ocean to agitate her white
curtains…disarray letters
on her desk…speak to her
in the scrape of gold red
autumn leaves dropped so
carelessly upon her porch,
in sunlit torch-ed flutter
imaged on her ceiling wall

a scrying need changed
currents in her blood…
changed direction of  a
subtle weather vane within
her brain to mediate faint
polarities of thought

a water thirst rose underneath
her tongue… a drowsy scarf…
a need to compass steps across
a room…she pinched her palm
for focus…for holding of a golden
thought against fading brevity
of  the pregnant light

 

Bonnie Marshall

Art by Andrew Wyeth
“Wind from the Sea” sketch

 

9 thoughts on “prophecy slipped through

  1. Bonnie,

    “prophecy slipped through
    open windows…born on a
    west-wind fragrance of pale
    ocean to agitate her white
    curtains”

    You’re kidding me, correct? You expect me to write poetry after reading that? Damn that is so beautiful, it aches!

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