having danced with the spirits…

November 2, 2007 at 1:30 pm (celebrations, original poetry/prose)

… the Lady collapses, exhausted, onto green moss, as the feeble morning light picks out her form in overbright blurring streaks of violet, purple, crimson, and skin pale as milk.

The spirits were not gentle this year… but as she slides into oblivious sleep, a little Mona Lisa smile plays across her lips.

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