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Leaves chased each other in circles
while the sky threatened to fracture.
From deep within her
came a silent, feral cry.

She awaited the homecoming..
the return..
the rebirth.

Chance encounters along the puddled path
forced a mask to her face..
a smile of acknowledgment
for the lovers and the lonely.

Catching a falling, dying leaf,
she laid it gently amongst others of its kind.
Came the quiet musing..."Were it only that easy."


didn't mean lonely.
She had learned that a lifetime ago.

Park benches and beaches
afforded solitude.
She was good at being remote from society.
Her books and her Muse were all she needed
to insulate her.

Sometimes it was easier to make your own solidude
than to find the physical requirements necessary.
And so she carried her solitude with her,
always at the ready,
should the world
touch her too deeply.


The night beckons the restless
and her soul bid her follow.
Too many nights she climbed
to this place.

It was like a paradise found to her
and she came to call it her own.
She shared it only with a battered oil lamp,
and her books.

But in time, it came to mean more than that to her.
She sensed change in the winds that blew gently.
They felt different somehow.
becoming a part of her very skin
as they washed over her in soft, tepid laps.

Blanket insulating her from the chill within,
nestled against the cool hard bricks,
she found her breath being held
as if in anticipation.
She wondered why for a fleeting moment
and then went back to her wanderings.


Something was missing
A part of her soul?
Restlessness abounded
reasons unknown.

Lulls in her life,
that stretched forever,
now unsettled her.

New moods,
as powerful as the new moon,
pulled at her,
needing identification.

Psychodelic days
and wandering nights
filled with heretofore

She wished she could wrap the sun in her arms,
smother the moon with her laugh,
melt into the rain,
and live forever.

Where and what
was her destiny?


The horses in their stall
and the caliope was mute.
The seasons begin their change,
and the world must adapt.

She could insulate her body,
perhaps even her mind.
Where would she find
protection for her soul?

Would the comfort of her humble home
be enough to save her?
Would it keep the world at bay?
She struggled against the changes.

Self imposed isolation
was the price she paid
for stability.
And all around her wore smiles of deceit
while they waved their practiced waves.

Into the heavy fog she trod,
bearing her soul in open arms
for all to see and touch.
And the price she paid was high.

She saw herself in every fallen leaf,
and every fractured sky.
She couldn't bear to see herself
born naked to the winds.

How long had she sat,
park bench her throne..
thinking of the loneliness
of the carousel horses
as they stood, silent
and hidden from view
behind the locked gates
that were meant for their protection?


Frenzied idleness
Languid rushing
Forever moving
in stillness.

Chilling sun
warming winds
to be sorted

Yesterday beckoned
with tomorrows memories.
And the world found in her
its place.

Sun set to right,
winds tempered and tamed,
yesterdays inventoried
and tomorrows memories saved.

Tumbles through the nights
left ruins upon her soul
as she climbed the depths
of her clouded visions
seeking a way back
to a simpler time and place.

Moonlight as her guide,
she struggled to find
the only peace she had ever known.

The child cried out
to the deaf, uncaring spirits of old...


and they answered back....



She wouldn't find herself in others.
She couldn't seem to find herself at all.
She tried to understand their faces
but it was nearing All Hallow's Eve
and the truth could not be found.

Wounds that bled tears from her soul
carried to the winds
a reminder
that not all hands heal.

She felt like a disembodied voice
floating in some netherworld
And the only persona she had
was in the odd things people remembered her saying.

And so, like Alice,
through the looking glass she fled,
trying to find another swirl
in her unique footprint.