Fable Wind
the fable wind
came crashing
at my door.
I let her in
upon her
well-made horse,
a beast with
nostril caves
and sunrise eyes.
They ringing
crossed in
clatter-prance
my rocking
ship-deck floor,
The wind�s
long hair
a ripened field
of painted flame.
Ocean mist
caressed her
shoulders bare,
with a thousand
eager lips
that blossomed,
then expired.
Bending low,
she picked
me up to ride.
She cried
my name
on distant hill,
a wild forest
inside a dream.
Close your eyes,
she said,
I�ll take you there.
October 11, 2005
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