Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

the roaming horde
of iced leaves
has been braked by wires
over the fire pit

the woman
sits beside the cart
in the shelter of
the roving canvas
the sleeping child
wrapped up
at her feet

she is lifting
a young dog
from the sheepskin
up to her breast
and by nursing it
she feeds the hungry
wind in the snow

distant daughter
of nomad goddess

you have lost
the sickle of flint
at the seam
of the vagrant waters

you hear the barking
in the night that follows
the track of wheels
from camp to camp

she is lifting
a young dog
from the sheepskin
up to her breast
and by nursing it
she feeds the hungry
wind in the snow...

Love these lines. Very good

loved this poem....especially

you hear the barking
in the night that follows
the track of wheels
from camp to camp

which brought a certain menace ....David

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O3uTLqSTT0Y

thank you for writing

beautiful poem, Panta! gracias for sharing it!!!!

thank you for the beautiful poem
please pardon multiple reply

just a ramble, a GO, don't mean nothing
I feel like I was gypsy woman's grandson
as if I could have been Romulus
random
thoughts
on Freud and the seduction of children
and my Identity

grabbed from the earth
experience toughened by love
no simple poem - tastes like raw life