Tangled Strands
The ocean’s complex
whirls arrest eyes and senses,
the silent rise of dawn
over the distant shore . . .
Wind tangled strands,
in gentle hands, loosen
as before, I twist my hair
in a well-versed braid
Your poem unravels -
erases and fades,
recomposes time,
in a narrative of love;
your poetry weaves
through the shadow of
my lashes . . . it seems
long ago, and so hard
to believe; when we
wrote of love, illegible
Deborah Russell, © 2005
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