Saturday, January 30, 2010

Memory of queens

Dusk softens the
summer day when
he rounds the curve
sees the three does
standing among the
shelter of trees
each slim as a
ballerina with the
high, slanted cheekbones
of a queen     shy
eyes dark as secrets.
One rounded ear
flicks  the lead
doe raises her head
and the three turn
dissolve into
green dark  like
women of the Sidhe
who appear but
are not there.


(c)Serena Fusek          previously published in Reflect

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