"She came to me one night, resting sweet dreams on my pillow; eyes the color of morning dew, sorrowful that I did not rise to greet her. She beckoned me, laying crimson lilies at my feet. I lay in slumber's embrace as she turned and walked away. I seek her now in the silence of my darkened room, waiting."
mother to serendipitous girl child/poem and prose-maker using narrative as shaman, lyric as landscape/is vessel ‘out to sea’, weathered, with one foot on dry land/at home in Georgia, at home nowhere/is love song, bawdy limerick, and swamp boogie fiddle repurposed as syllable and form.