To my beloved... Ravens talk, chatter, spit and walk branch becomes perch, narrative birth tongue keeps wipping in the wind there conversation making perfect sense Mira's ravens keep everything sedative they have let out the sun pine tree curls at the thought of listening to another story furrowed in the wind an elaborate exchange of song washing through the drifts of wings black birds wait patient for the girls return Standingdeer
thank you, those are nice comments. I am always pleased when poetry reaches deep within the soul eventually birthing personal understanding. Standingdeer
I agree with sylvan, very touching. Great, fresh descriptions in this made me see the snapshots vividly...and the emotions that went along with each stanza were well displayed. I love this stanza...it's so personal and elegant. [Mira's ravens keep everything sedative they have let out the sun pine tree curls at the thought of listening to another story furrowed in the wind] Enjoyed this...
