I’d heard news of tornadoes touching down and wondered if you’d hopped on your broom to away before a house fell on you.
I wonder if the Wicked Witch of the West is still alive.
*
5/25/2011
About
You are calm and reposed. Let your beauty unfold.
Pale white, like the skin stretched over your bones.
Spring keeps you ever close.
You are second hand smoke. You are so fragile and thin.
Standing trial for your sins.
Holding onto yourself the best you can.
The word warrior without a favorite day.
Ask and receive.
