Published in the March-April 2001 Vol.3 No.3 issue
of
FRICTION
MAGAZINE
Snowed in at O'Hare
I pull the wires that spin snowflakes
in the half-light of your round table eyes,
on them a flower breathes
its breath song.
Oh, unroll the linen star chart
pull the sky down to touch it too;
the language of velvet & night
filling all space around us.
And we spin, spin, spin!
Faces bursting through hair
only for flashes,
we sculpt our features together.
Huge windows retain the moment
as we dance in the noise
more white than snow.
Far across the ocean dusk falls behind gargoyles
waiting on a roof above the square.
©Tasha 2000
