poem and photo, by kate lamberg, (c) '13 |
level headed lover, a centered statuesque
friend who knows the times of greatest quiet
reveal all the beauty one can ever feel
not looking beyond her sunburst beak,
she feels the low-tide gently speak
of faeries wearing seaweed hair, and scents
of salt water creek; mother of pearls,
as eyes do gleam, while full moon rises
in the east, on this blessed night of solstice feast
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