"****** of crows"
Yes, that too~
The dysmorphia of an aging body
struggling to try on dresses
struggling for some semblance
of age-appropriate beauty
has-seen-a-better-day

Mother-of-the-bride
captured
for a photo
hugged by lycra
Arthritis crying from every joint

More like carcass-by-the-road

She pulled the tie from her hair
releasing the avalanche of gray
Handfuls of snow and mud
tumbled from her tangled
Tired
like the end of day
curtaining
restive eyes
Beside quivering lips
and over her shoulder
as the earth's unforgiving boulders

Called her to fall again
and again....

Dying of fires
The days /
reflections
on surfaces of oceans...
Burnt Umbers, blue & blood,
Mixish
Muted, drowned.

The sinking sun
wounded. Down

For death sees red
before dark fall / Ruin...

It is the sensation of ripples
when supple lips, pink linguist
leaves poetic syllabic pining
—live wires touching
Nape, the meek taste of tongue, shyly
lifting countries to new conquered kingdoms
of skin—
gooseflesh and earthquakes
blood as lava
rushes in
kabuki cheeks
secret joy begins.

Red so parched
Those sudden seas
of thirst
parts /
As our senses / must
breathe...
(like art)

Magic whispers kiss
because touch impassioned
is red and wish.

Lovelorn letters
poetic bliss
Spontaneous wings born
In each ache and void
Loud trumpeting of words
when distance fails
the hearts which beat
Feel speak
red
the oceans felt
the tides that ebb
hurried pleas
desperations
red

when letters
lose the dying magnitude,
the importance & impetus
that love must free...

Great clarion songs
of hearts are red
as are all
kisses (scarlet)
even to air
and dead
         begins on such lips
Red.

low slanted white sun,
grazes like sandpaper,
an old mop falls down.