Poetry by Lyn Lifshin ♣ Art by Barry Mack
I walked from a dream of
longing, always for some
one ghostly, untouchable.
I walked thru the roses
like some woman driving
in the dark, from the
prairie, dazed by wind
strong enough to tilt trees.
The musky amber and
umber, stained glass and
jewels. The cool baths,
a massage. I could have
been, half felt I was the
Lady with the Unicorn,
delicate and pale,
pulling him in with the
sense of taste, hearing,
sight, smell and touch.
A Mon Seul Desir, my
one desire, that jeweled
box, one, someone,
said, would change April,
and then I left like a
ghost, like dust
in the morning light
Leave a Reply