Saturday, October 9, 2010

Gypsy in Gypsum Powder

Meanings in limitless flame destinations. My territory dwindles as pines mingle. I relish in the commentary the rocks give to the bushes and puddles of mud. I smooth my finger tips across the mush of the muddled puddle. Injaled in the frequent relapse of circumventing halos above my forehead hovers, luna moths dance a delicate pattern too and fro creating shadows on my face. A moonlight glow encapsulates my body, my aura is fighting away the darkness of an early sunset. I am a gypsy floundering in the woods of Ukraine searching for a bed of feathers to repair my tired soul. My caravan wishes it could fly me to a rich castle of nature.

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