as if a beautiful woman flings
her wild and tangled web of auburn hair
and washes it in the tides of history
to see the vivid tendrils of her past drown
her very eyes are closed
and all her days
measured in the ebb and flow
whole rivers of creation swell
Very good – nice ‘fluid ‘ metaphorsMHSent from my iPad
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Many thanks Marek for reading my poems, best wishes, David.
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