collage © polly macdavid
(xxi the world)
poetry races through me like a blast of cold air off lake erie. dramatic clouds over white-capped water. sand & stone & searing exhilaration.
i was kidnapped when i was 10 & sold to the gypsies. now i dance wildly every night & tell fortunes.
poetry crackles in the campfire. poetry is the wine in the jug we pass. poetry is alive in my snapping fingers. my swirling red skirts. my magic red shoes.
poetry. the great liberator. the lover of my life. poetry. savior of my soul.
poetry. the damp grass underneath my back. a million stars over my head.
© polly macdavid